


Worlds Apart

by RunningGirl17



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Blood Magic, Brief Speech Gap, Cultural Differences, Cultural Shock, Different Laws to Magic, Dragonborn no like, Elves, Elves everywhere, F/M, Gods are huge trolls honestly, M/M, Magic, Other, Self-Worth Issues, Slow Burn, Teaching, Templars are duches, Too many tags…, Vallaslin, World hop, shouting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-11-19 03:19:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunningGirl17/pseuds/RunningGirl17
Summary: Let it not once be said that she, Ash Forest-Vale, was ever meant for a normal life.She fought dragons, daedra, scuffled with a few Gods and even killed her predestined enemy, The World Eater, Alduin. And she somehow managed to stay alive.Now, after everything was said and done in the end, looking back at what she had wrought?Tranquility. There is nothing that her life calls for now. Skyrim is quiet, the dragons are quiet...she has gone quiet. She doesn't feel needed now. Her fate is, finally, her own now and she can close her eyes and think about her own future without worrying about a dragon swallowing her world whole.But fate is a cruel mistress.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is NOT a copy! I also have it on Wattpad(ugh, ikr?) my username goes by Halla12. I will also be updating on both accounts as well.
> 
> Enjoy<3

Let it not once be said that she, Ash Forest-Vale, was ever meant for a normal life. 

She just about forgotten what it feels like to be inside a cozy little hut, warmed by the hungry flames of a hearth. She has forgotten what an actual bed feels like. With all its warm animal furs to keep her wrapped up from the unforgiving cold that follows the night. To be able to feel safe in the arms of a lover throughout their night of passion and sweet nothings being whispered into her ear.

She has almost forgotten what her real name was, too.

Not in a going crazy sort of sense, oh no. For she goes by many names such as Harbinger, Archmage, Listener, Nightingale, Ice Veins and earned title of Thane to many holds. And her most infamous name, which she has been called by a many passers by, she is known as Dovahkiin, Dragonborn. She has answered to them so many a time she almost forgotten the name she was born into.

So, she clings to that one name like a life line. It's a funny thing how names work. It can be ripped away from you as quick as a pup is ripped away from its mother's milk full tit if it shows potential of being stronger than the rest.

So yes, she doesn't live a life of never having to look behind her shoulder. Instead, she lives a life of solitude with a shaggy mutt of a dog at her hip as a companion and a demonic horse with red ruby eyes that can even send the bravest of souls running. She chooses to live within the deep, shady, old forest that borders Winterhold within a tree with branches old enough and thick enough to support her weight or sometimes inside a cave. It's preferable than within the loud and bustling cities where everyone knew who she is and they would near fall to there knees in worship, ask for her help, or on occasion a prideful warrior comes to her doorstep to test their mettle. When instead, they leave with their pride wounded, sore, and a missing tooth. 

But, she will, when need be, enter the nearest town or city with her dog at her side to trade pelts and/or any valuable items she finds in her travels...or on anyone that she has killed. Getting a room in any of the inns is nothing but a hassle and unnecessary. She would enter to buy food, get information for a job or for a strong drink to get the nip of the air away from her skin. 

She has, on more than one occasion, had a few encounters with men and sometimes woman with too much liquor in there systems view her as a easy target and think they can have their way with her. They never did get to, though. A nord actually had the nerve to smack her ass when she was bent over to give Meeko, her dog, scraps from her left over meal. The bastard even used a repulsive pick up line saying, "What does a pretty face like you," he lifted her chin, "doing out here in the cold when you can find it much warmer in my bed, hm?" He brought her face closer but before their lips could make contact, she leaned back, and head butted him, hard, in the face. He crumpled to the ground holding his now broken and bloody nose. "You bitch!" he yelled at her through his hands, and before he could get up, Meeko pounced on top of him growling and holding him down on his back.

She felt his foul blood on her face but she didn't bother to wipe it off. She called Meeko off with a short whistle. Meeko quickly went to his master's side and sat obediently but still had the man in his sight. The nord tried to get up with a grunt, but she got on top of him with her knee on his chest. Their little spectacle gain a small crowd within the inn but she didn't give a damn. Ash grabbed the mans greasy hair and brought their faces close, "As much as your offer sounds, pleasing," she tilted her head to the side, and her neutral features turned into a hard scowl, "I don't sleep with dogs that roll in their own filth." That being said, she brought back a fist, and punched him in the jaw, knocking him out cold. 

Ash blames her exotic looks for when these types of scuffles occur. But, it's what to be expected to those of her ilk, elves, the Bosmer if she were to be specific. The Bosmer are shorter than their stoic Altmer, mysterious dark skinned Dunmer and their brawny Orsimer cousins. The Orsimer are more of an exception when it comes to their facial features.

Ash has more neutral features than anything, truthfully. She has brown hair with darker brown highlights that reaches between her shoulder blades. Her skin is lightly tanned showing her many days in the sun. She has a fare face lightly dusted with freckles across her pointed nose and cheeks. And her eyes are a striking bright shade of silver with her inner irises being a darker shade of brown. The most noticeable mar on her is the three little scars on her left cheek reaching a little onto her left eye she received in a fight with a sabrecat when she was nineteen. She has a few little scars on her arms as well from her training with a sword over the years.

It has been many years since the fall of her predestined enemy, Alduin, The World Eater. She was more relieved than anything when she stroke the final blow into his cold heart. Paarthurmax reached out to the remaining dragons from Alduin's command and taught those that would listen to the true way of the thu'um. She brought order, or what order she could bring, between the two factions of Stormcloaks and the Imperials. Ash was never interested in their little squabble in the first place and tried her best to stay out of it, but, eventually she had to make a choice in order for the fighting to stop. She gained friends and enemies because of it. 

Now, after everything was said and done in the end, looking back at what she had wrought?

Tranquility. There is nothing that her life calls for, now. Skyrim is quiet, the dragons are quiet...she has gone quiet. She doesn't feel needed now. Her fate is, finally, her own now and she can close her eyes and think about her own future without worrying about a dragon swallowing her world whole. 

But fate is a cruel mistress.


	2. Break Your Chains or Bend and Break

The sky is crystal blue and dotted with large white clouds that foretell a future rainfall. Large flocks of birds fly aloft in intricate designs, never coming apart unless to join a new flock of the same feather. A warm breeze caresses her skin as she looks off into the distant blue mountains from her perch atop a rock that overlooks a clear lake. The wind shakes the branches of centuries old trees, creating its own soothing music, and bringing it to her own delicately pointed ears. She closed her eyes and deeply breathed in a lung full of air, doing so, she caught the sweet scent of wild poppies and the hint of spiciness from dragon's tongue.

Dreams are only as real as you make them.

Opening her eyes, she looked down into the tranquil waters below. In her reflection, she saw a girl, no older than twelve, looking back. The girl smiled, beckoning her with her little arms to join her in its depths. The woman on the other side felt no threat, why would she? She nodded her head and the little girl seemed to giggle in glee knowing she will have a partner to join her. 

The woman stood back and began removing her light brown tunic that she barely noticed she was wearing. Next, came the woolen pants, then her shoes and finally her undergarments. She stripped herself bare except for a small sapphire pendent encased in intricately designed metal with a silver chain wrapped around her neck. As she stood there, enjoying the harsh heat of the sun on her newly exposed skin, she took the time to observe her physique.

She saw travel hardened legs with a thin scar running up her left thigh to the swell of her hips. With her eyes traveling higher, she saw the gentle appearance of abdominal muscles. Her breasts were averagely sized, if she were to guess correctly. And, when she lifted up her hands to her eye level, she noticed calloused palms and fingers as well as small nicks from the use of a sword. Her arms, as well, have signs of scars from such activities she vaguely remembers. With what little femininity she had she made up for in muscle, she noticed.

Looking back over the edge of the rock, she saw the little girl was observing her as well. The woman stood up straight and walked toward the edge, her toes curling in preparation. Raising her arms up toward the sky, she closed her eyes, and plunged into the depths of the lake.

But, so can dreams lead to nightmares.

The water was shockingly cold considering how warm it felt above, but she didn't care. Opening her eyes, what she saw unnerved her. The water had an inky blackness to it that she couldn't see the bottom and looked almost as if it were a void. Turning her gaze to the surface, she saw the distorted world above, it looked peaceful, and she liked it. A shadow came into her view, it was the little girl she saw in her reflection. The girl swam down to her floating body making them parallel to each other.

A smile graces her lips, "Hello." She says. The woman realizes that she has been breathing this whole time and let's out a slight chuckle at her own stupidity. The little girl's serene face turns to one of confusion, "What is so funny? I don't remember doing something that would cause such an action." She brings a tiny fist to her chin as if contemplating something and makes a face of deep thought. A gesture that she has done many a time.

"You have done nothing, child. I just realized my current situation and I couldn't help but laugh." She set her view back to the clear yet distorted image of the world above and noticed two small fish swim by unaware of the two bodies below them. She heard the girl sigh a small laugh, probably due to her comment seeming funny to her. The woman let a content smile cross her dazed features and, slowly, let her eyes drift back to the girl above her. 

The girl has crossed her arms in front of her chest. She noticed she wore a white dress that bellowed out to her knees with frills at the bottom and had only one strap over her left shoulder. Her eyes flicked to the girl's hair that floated around her face in thick brown tendrils that where a shade lighter than her own. 

Her eyes were silver, with the inner irises a deep shade of brown. Just like hers. Her round, childish face, though slightly pale, was dusted with freckles across her cheeks and a tiny button nose. Just like her. A slight shuffle within the flawless fabric of her dress caught the woman's attention. She let her gaze head toward the girl's chest and what fell out from within the folds caused her eyes to widen. From around the girl's neck, a sapphire jewel surrounded in intricately designed metal connected to a silver chain, was a necklace.

Her necklace.

Realization hit her, as if struck by an arrow to who's owners aim was true. She was dreaming, and that this little girl, with many of her striking similarities to herself, was in fact her. Not knowing she was dreaming is not an uncommon occurrence and is even rarer for her to know she was dreaming at all until it is too late and she wakes up immediately. 

A bitter laugh escapes her, and she sighs, "This is a dream, is it not?" The girl smiles, as if she was waiting for her to put all the puzzle pieces together to finally have the bigger picture that they create. "That is a manner of perspective, yes? What is a dream but a construct of the imagination? A place to reflect within the mind to what has been done and to what will be done, it all leads to the state of mind." What she meant to refer to, as to what she caught in the girl's hidden meaning, was to her state of mind. "Or," She continued with a sinister grin that sent shivers down her body, "to reck havoc upon themselves mentally."

Everything changed in that instant.

The waters cool temperature dropped drastically. "What-" She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe? Her whole body began to shake and her mind was given one objective...escape. 

With her stiffening joints, she erected herself, looked up, and saw the girl still had the sinister grin upon her face. Instead of her hair moving in a flowing motion, it jerked about as if it had a mind of its own. And, all of a sudden, began turning white from the roots to the tips. "What is wrong, little dragon?" She said it mockingly. "Can't you breathe? You need to if you want to make fire." And she laughed. A horrifyingly cruel laugh.

Out of pure will to survive, she summoned a mass flurry of flames, surrounding her in bright light, and released it in a great explosion. The flames hit the girl directly and she let out a ear piercing scream. Using her distraction, she swam toward the light with her lungs desperate for air. She pumped her arms and legs, that were ever growing with fatigue, hard. 

She was almost at the top. The bright, warm, welcoming sun nearly about to greet her. Her lungs began to burn, screaming for a precious lung full of air, forcing her to keep going.  
Reaching an arm up to touch the surface, she is almost there! 

Suddenly, she feels something latch to her ankles, and is yanked down.

'No, no!' She screams within her mind. The sun is becoming more distant, its great shine becoming more of a twinkle with the increasing distance. Looking down at her ankles, she finds chains circling around them, becoming painfully tight. Further down, they are connected to the black abyss below her. And they are dragging her to it. She tries to use her arms but her attempts are in vain when more chains rise and latch themselves to her arms, dragging them down to her sides, restraining them. 

She begins jerking her body vigorously to try to loosen the chains. Her lungs are close to bursting and she is becoming desperate. Suddenly, in front of her face is the girl. 'In all her white haired glory' She thought bitterly. "I see your will to live is strong, little dragon," A small dainty hand rises to stroke her face but she jerks her head back in disgust, "and rebellious to the last breath as well? Quite remarkable, really." 

She glares at the girl, but her mind is becoming sluggish and the corners of her sight is becoming dim. Her chest is on fire and she begins to nod off, 'I'm going to die...' She begins to think. 

A hand lifts her face, it was the girl's, "Now, now, don't be so quick to leave me." She chastised her. Vaguely, she feels both her dainty hands upon her face. Then, came the clashing of lips upon her own. She begins to panic until she feels air fill her aching lungs, she accepts it greedily. The girl left her lips after confirming with her eyes the woman wouldn't faint on her. "Now that wasn't so hard now, was it?" A smile returned to her face, "Let us continue our conversation, hm?"

She didn't want this. She didn't want any of this. The white haired girl played with her as if she were a toy, and she is powerless to do anything! She hated and feared this girl with all her being, she didn't care if she wore her face or not, she wanted her to be nothing but a bloody sac of meat, bones and sinew below her feet with her lifeless eyes staring up at her in fear rather then her be the fearful. 

'But you can't now, can you?' She heard a voice say within her mind, and, of course, it was the girl's.

"Do you know what these chains are?" She asks with a tilt of her head. She looked down at the chains that connected themselves to the abyss below, they seemed to go on forever, never ending. She couldn't think of anything else of what they were but chains, there soul purpose to restrain, bound, secure and to keep their victims. The chains tightened profusely. "They are your fate." She says finally.

She points to the chains on her ankles, "Your fate will forever restrain you from walking a path less traveled by many of your ilk," she points to the chains on her arms, "Your fate will keep you in her arms and guide you where you are meant and you will never wonder, never waver."  
Ash shakes her head slowly then furiously. She doesn't believe this! Her life is her own! She is done with the world and the world is done with her. It has no use for her anymore and the choices she makes are of her own accord, not what she was meant and always will do, as if it were her birth right! 

She looks back at the white haired girl, but is shocked and fights to hold in a scream at what she sees. The girl had sprouted horns at the sides of her head that curl like a ram's. And she no longer had bright silver eyes anymore, but instead replaced with dark, black, pits. Her teeth were now fangs and her nails replaced with razor sharp claws that look like they could tare flesh like butter. And her skin was now a ghostly shade of white that made her look sickly.

She floats closer to her body and presses herself flush against her own. She is left frozen in fear as the girl, or rather it, wraps its arms around her bare torso. She can feel it chuckling by the quick rise and fall of its chest, "And you know what else?" It asked in a new, deep, husky voice toward her delicately pointed ear, feeling its breath brush it. She felt a sharp nail from one of its fingers brush gently along the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine and making her toes curl.  
She felt chains lay there claim upon her neck and felt them tighten. 

Making her eyes widen.

"Your fate always has, and will, be woven inside your soul in life and will still guide your damnable soul in death. Seems almost romantic, don't you think?" 

She felt nothing, then. Her face contorted to one of shock and...helplessness. She despises how its words have gotten to her, and yet, she can't deny to what truth its words held. 

All her life, she has done what she has been 'destined' to achieve that predated before the age that she was even born in. Sithis, it was even carved onto a damn wall! All that she could have done for herself was...accept it. 

She felt the smile grow on the creatures face, having known its words struck home. She stiffened, though, when she felt its arms tighten around her, "That's a good girl." It appraised. Then, unexpectedly, it kissed her cheek and released its grip on her. Only to rise above her and place its deadly clawed hands on her shoulders. She looked up in fear and saw its sinister smile plastered on its face.

"You can't fight fate." It whispers. Suddenly, the chains yank both her and the creature down. Plunging them both into the dark, unforgiving, abyss.

She screamed.

 

And woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Twas that Lust??? Envy??? Thought this was Skyrim…oh well~
> 
> Thanks for reading<3


	3. The Hunt

There is something therapeutic and exciting about venturing into a hunt at the break of dawn. The air is cool with a light breeze and the sun is barely greeting the world with a twinkle of its light. The first light of a new day.

The song birds haven't begun to greet the world with their melodious voices. Instead, in their place is the occasional caw of a crow or two. And the morning dew is cool on her bare feet. Hunting with her shoes off was more preferable due to them making too much noise for her liking.

Bow slung on her shoulder as well as her hawk feathered arrows inside their sling hung from her back. She headed out in haste upon her horse, Shadowmere, in search of a herd of stag she spotted a day prior heading south. They marched at a leisurely pace unaware of their pursuer. Meeko was ahead of them with his head low to the ground keeping track of the herds scent and looking for anymore of their droppings. She found a few piles of it two miles back-it had gotten cold but was still fresh- it was a good sign saying the herd was close. And lucky for her the wind was at their fronts meaning the herd hasn't picked up on them yet.

The rhythmic clop of Shadowmere's hooves on the forest floor mixed with the gentle rocking motion of him below her made her subconsciously close her eyes for a moment.

Her moment of calm came to an abrupt end when she heard Meeko give a sharp bark. Snapping her eyes open fully alert. 

She spotted Meeko a few paces in front of where her and Shadowmere stood, "Meeko, what is it?" 

She hopped off of Shadowmere and landed in a crouch by his large hooves. Meeko was running back and forth to his master with a wide grin on his face. Seeming impatient, he yipped followed by a whine and took off toward the tree line she saw ahead.

"Meeko!"

She sprinted after him, not bothering to tie her ruby eyed horse to anything. He wasn't going anywhere anyways. She slowed to a silent jog once she got to the edge of the tree line, Meeko stopped in the same spot as her and changed his stance to a crouch, there... she spotted the herd. They were a good size twelve in all: six females, four males and two calves. The adults grazed amongst shrubs and lichen that grew on rocks and young dying tree limbs that managed to grow out in the barren plain. The calves trotted about their mothers legs and suckled from their milk.

The herds leader, the bull, walked along the outskirts of the group with his head held high and large antlers glistening in the sunlight. That is her target.

Reaching back, she grabs an arrow. Meeko's ears flick in anticipation as the arrow is notched in its place. She pulls back the string to its max, until the feathers brush against her cheek. And holds. And aims. All was silent. She dares not breathe. The crows turned there screeches to mere silence...as if holding their own breathes in anticipation like her.

The leader turned his large head slowly in her direction, its large black eyes locking with her bright silver ones. They stared each other off, neither one moving a muscle, she breathed in then slowly exhaled. 

She loosened her grip on the arrow, intended on letting it meet its mark when...

"You can't fight fate."

She gasped.

Causing her arms to shake, the arrow missed the stag and it bolted as well as the rest of the herd. Shaking out of her stupor, her determination renewed with a new fire.

"Meeko, get it!" He bolted across the plain like lightning after the stag, barking and snarling. Hooking her bow onto her shoulder she reached into the collar of her shirt, curling her fingers around the familiar cool metal of the whistle she keeps around her neck next to her sapphire necklace. Bringing it to her lips, she sharply blew into it creating a single shrill note. Not a moment passed when she heard a great force charging in her direction hearing twigs snapping and hooves stomping. She got ready.

Storming out of the tree line came her large, black, fiery red-eyed horse. Racing past her, she reached her arm out, latching it to his mane, and swung herself into his saddle. They gave chase to the stag and caught up with Meeko's barking. The herd gathered themselves into a bulk with the the large bull in the front leading them away. She raced alongside them and Meeko snapped at their legs trying to scare and scatter, but they wouldn't budge away from the leader. She thought up a plan. 

Kicking her heels into Shadowmere's sides, he increased his speed until they reached the head of the bulk next to the bull. The stag saw them and he accelerated his speed, running past the herd. Not giving the herd time to notice the change in pace and close the gap, she summoned ice in her right palm and shot it at the ground in front of the herd. An ice wall exploded into being causing the herd to be cut off from their leader and veered away from it in fright. Smiling at the successful shot she turned her head forward again.

Kicking her heels again, they caught up to the side of the stag and kept at a safe distance. Meeko was snapping at his heels, keeping the stag occupied.

Tightening her legs around Shadowmere to keep herself secure, she let go of the reins, reached over her shoulder, grabbed an arrow and notched it.

Pulling the string at full max once more she took aim. In the back of her mind, though, she heard the same voice make itself known. "Your fate always has, and will, be woven inside your soul in life and still guide your damnable soul in death." It ended with a loud laugh. She growls, very much frustrated with herself for letting the creatures words stick within her mind. Part of her thinks it's actually there. Trying to slowly break her mind, so it can consume her on the inside out. Practically forcing its thoughts to dominate her own.

She had that nightmare two days ago.  
She can feel it forming in her mind. Creating a sharp pain within her temples, she let this go on longer than needed for her comfort.

She steels herself and calmly breathes in and out her nose. 'I suggest you stop with the mind tricks, creature.' The echoing laughter stops abruptly, she smirks, 'The only thing that can dominate my free will,' she turns her focus to the stag and shot it in the chest where its heart lays. It bleated a loud cry, stumbled, and fell over its own feet. Giving Meeko the chance to pounce on it and tare his canines into the life vein, making its death quick. 'Is nothing in this damned selfish world or the next. So get out of my head.' She hissed in her mind. She felt the weight within her mind recede and she let out a shaky breath. She was exhausted.

The crows flew into the air and cawed and screeched in excitement.

"You were no more than a parasite anyways." 

Slowing her horse to a walk, she turned him around and headed back to the fallen stag. Meeko sat obediently guarding the still warm corpse with his moth in an open smile. A bloody, bright-eyed, smile.

She hopped off on shaky legs and took her carving knife out of its holster on the side of the saddle. Walking over, she pat Meeko's dirty blonde head and begun to carve. Beginning with the skin, then carved into the stomach to rip out the organs and placed them into their own steaming pile. With those out of the way she began cutting into the meat and chopped out thick chunks of venison and meat strips. She placed the strips onto a rock within the suns rays so they would dry.

She heard a wine behind her. Turning her head, it was Meeko. He had his tale wagging and his eyes were facing her in a pleading gesture, "What? You want some?" His head instantly lifted and his tale wagged furiously shaking his whole body. She can't fight that face, "Alright, here." She gave him a slice of the venison and he took it happily under a shady tree.

Finally, after a half hour of cleaning, skinning, and dicing, she stood up then packed all the meat and skin into her hunting bag and threw it over the saddle. After washing her blood soaked hands with her water skin, she yanked herself onto Shadowmere.

At the corner of her eye she saw movement from within the shade of the tree line of the forest. It was a pack of wolves and they were eyeing her and the remains of the carcass. Meeko ran up to her side and growled at the new comers, the wolves curled their teeth in response.

"Meeko, let's go."

She turned her horse and began to trot away, Meeko lopped after them.

The wolves howled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that momentary possession? What could it mean? ;)
> 
> Wow, I did not expect to already receive kudos this early. If not any! Thank you all very much<3


	4. Bet With a Dragon

Her travel back to Whiterun was thankfully uneventful. Before she rode up to the stables she placed an illusion spell onto Shadowmere's unnatural eyes. Changing them to a normal dark brown so as not to raise any unneeded conflict. She made that mistake once when she first got him and chose to blindly ride toward Falkreith, which resulted with the local guards to attack her with swords and arrows. Rumors began to spread about her within the area and recently the parents began to tell their children if they misbehaved, the Daedric Rider will take them away whilst they slept and take their souls to the most heinous Daedric Lords.

They didn't know it was her, though. For she wore her Nightingale armor and had her hood and half mask to conceal herself. So, it was partially her fault for looking so demonic at the time, which was ten years since.

She gave his reins to the stablehand, while making sure he didn't nip the boy in the process, and entered Whiterun.

\--------

"I will give you fifty gold for the pelt and seventy for the venison." Said the store clerk of The Drunken Huntsman. "I will take it, and thank you."

"For what? The gold?"

She cracked a smile, "For giving me the job in the first place. The hunt was...challenging and I enjoyed the experience." The clerk lifted a brow at her. He turned and gave a low snort as he began to pin up the stags hide on the wall behind his counter, "And here I thought Wood Elves had a knack with hunting from what I have observed. I didn't think it would be any trouble, especially for you, Ash."

She began to pocket the gold into her coin purse, "There were...  
complications." He turned to her, obviously wanting to know what happened. She hesitated, "It was only a bear." She lied. "Apparently, it had the same target as me and wanted to pick a fight." She sighed but finished with a smile. She knew it was a lie but she didn't want anyone to know about what transpired, this was personal.

Seeming convinced, he nodded and scratched his grey beard, "Ah, well, that seems understandable considering it's 'bout time the snow begins to fall. All them bears gathering up their fat for..." Suddenly, his eyes widened and he let out a frustrated grumble, "By Talos! That means most of the big game will be scarce, how could I forget something like that?" He banged his fist on the counter.

She laughed at his frustration as she was heading toward the door. "Well you could have asked me how the weather was when I entered," she snickered as she grabbed the handle, "but instead you greeted me with gold in my face. So, it is your fault there, my good sir."

She moved her head down just in time to avoid an apple being thrown at her which splattered on the door frame. "Why don't I greet you with an apple to the face next time then!" He seethed. She opened the door, "Because you would have missed and I get to laugh." She deadpanned.

"Why you little-"

"Good bye, good sir!" And she closed the door. She can still hear him yelling on the other side of the door as she walked down the stone path toward The Bannered Mare. It was the beginning of winter and most of the normally vibrant, loud, bustling people of the town were either indoors doing what they can to keep their houses warm or were shuffling on the streets bundled up in firs buying what was necessary for the frigid months to come. The town itself looked grey, as if it were going into its own state of hibernation. Snow and ice began to stick to the buildings and ground, making the paths slippery and difficult.

She tightened her scarf around her neck to make it more snug. Looking up, she noticed she made it to the steps toward the inn. The amber glow coming from the windows promised warmth and comfort from within. She can hear laughter and hardy songs being sung by equally hardy voices. Walking up the steps, she reached the handle and opened the creaky door to find men hanging on each other, laughing and spilling their mugs filled with alcohol. She smiled at the familiar sight, it brought fond memories of her early years. Back before the fate of the world was suddenly placed upon her shoulders that dreadful day on the chopping block. Selfishly, she ponders if it would have been better if Alduin didn't interfere that day and everything would have ended there. She wouldn't have had to go through the shit she does now.

But that was in the past and what's done is done. It doesn't do anyone any good to dwell on the past.

Shaking her head of the dark thoughts, she advanced further into the tavern. As she did so, she caught the eyes of everyone within, including the ones on the second story, look upon her.

They weren't eyes of admiration, though. They were eyes of suspicion, and they burnt into her. The singing men suddenly stopped when they felt the change of atmosphere around them and turned to the source of the cause. At the corner of Ash's eye, a bulky man stood from his seat at the corner of the room and headed toward her direction. His footsteps where heavy and each step she heard the clinking of heavy armor that seemed to ring in her eardrums. The men parted a path as he advanced toward her and some even began to snicker. 'He must be important...or at least well known if he gets the people here to act giddy.' She mused. Ash closed her eyes and headed to the counter to her right, ignoring him completely, and sat upon the stool next to a person with their hood up enjoying their beer.

Ash was about to order when she felt a hand be roughly placed on her shoulder. Instinctively, she shoved the hand off and stood to her full height, causing the stool to fall over. Turning to the perpetrator who was, in fact, the warrior she ignored.

Realizing that she was staring at his breastplate, she looked up and made eye contact. "You have no business staying here, elf. Pack up and leave!" He crossed his arms over his chest and straightened his back, displaying dominance.

Calming her growing irritation, she said calmly but firmly, "I came here for a stiff drink and a warm meal. I have as much purpose of being here as you," she placed the back of her hand on his chest, "Furthermore, I have no intent today of causing trouble." She shoved him back with great effort he didn't expect. And stumbled, almost tripping.

The men laughed and he glared at her, "You say you come here peacefully, yet are clearly asking for a fight!" He went to grab his sword from his belt but found the sheathe was empty.

"Los hi siiv fah oaar?"

From behind her back she brought his sword into his peripheral, pointing the tip between his eyes.

Everyone gasped.

His face went red with anger, "How in the void did you do that, thief?" He spat. Back stiffening, he balled his hands into fists at his sides, "You come into this tavern like you own the place. You shove me, not to mention touch me, when you just said you 'had no intention of causing trouble', heretic," he yanks his sword out of her grasp and points it at her neck, "And now, you speak in tongues! What did you say, elf, so that we all," he gestured to the crowd, "know in a language we understand, hm?"

Heretic? Thief? She visibly grimaced at the accusations. Although, the latter is true, it is not in the context he is thinking.

Standing straighter, which shocked him, Ash's eyes narrowed, "You claim me a heretic? A thief?" She walked further to him. Ash felt the blade dig but not cut her skin, "Hin rot dreh ni peylaan wah zey, joor! I acted as what was necessary for you to get out of my personal space!"

The warrior flinched greatly for everyone to see. His eyes went wide and he began to shake a little, but he refused to back down. He clenched the hilt of his sword tighter.

"I am no novice but I am in fact quite good at the art of thievery, I'll give you that." She relaxed her posture, "But what I just did was a simple technique of disarming my opponent, if you weren't so focused on insulting me than even you would have noticed my hand."

She moved his sword away from her, "And I have no intention of taking your weapon. If I had then I wouldn't have given it back, it's common sense, I'm surprised your mother didn't teach it to you. Also, your blade is dull and ineffective."

The crowd behind him burst into laughter and she caught the familiar clink of coin being tossed back and forth.

"You better back off now, Trince," the man paused to stifle a laugh, "the lass has you cornered!"

"Come on! I lost fifty gold already!"

She didn't see the fist coming till it was too late as it went across her jaw. It sent her stumbling backwards into the counter, rattling the mugs and plates. "Someone 'ought to teach you to keep your mouth shut, freak!" She heard him crack his knuckles as she wiped the blood from her busted lip. "You have quite the loud mouth for someone so small. It would be better for the world if it didn't work at all, you peace of shit!"

He threw another fist at her, aiming for her head when she turned around before he could blink and caught it within her small palm. He looked at her in surprise, she was looking at him in return. Her eyes weren't the normal shade of silver and instead they were glowing a pale blue and her round pupils turned to slits.

"You didn't let me answer your last question, hefhah." He eyes grew in shock at the sudden change in her tone, instead of calm and light it changed to a rumble that almost sounded like a growl. "You are a nord so you must at least know your legends, yes?" He didn't reply so she continued, "How 'bout I ask another question? Who was that one warrior that assisted Ulfic's army of Stormcloaks? Who helped in the assault on Solitude and Whiterun?" Trince grew pale as she questioned him on the event that occurred nine years ago.

She tilted her head to the left, "What was that warriors name, Trince?"

"You're the...D-Dragonborn?" He looked down not realizing she let go of his fist. "That was....dragon speech?"

"Dovahzul. Yes, correct." Her voice changed back to its original and her eyes no longer glowed. He went completely still and dropped his sword with a clank.

"I am so sorry! Please, forgive my stupidity! It wasn't my intent- I had no idea you-"

"Ganog! That's enough, just leave from my sight. I'm already mad enough and your apologies will only add more to the effect." She was forming a headache and her chest burned from stopping herself from shouting this bumbling fool to only a smear on the wall. Trince left without a second thought. But wasn't fast enough before she saw a wet stain on his breeches.

The bloody fool pissed himself.

When her sight traveled to the people that watched the exchange, they lifted their mugs and cheered in her name. The music began again with the bard banging on her drum and the men singing 'The Dragonborn Comes'.

A short Redgaurd with a mustache walked up to her, "And 'ere are ye' winnins, Ash!" He shoved a large coin purse into her palm with a smile. "Never doubt ya for a second!"

"You all should stop playing this stupid game of yours, Jack! I was close to killing the man!"

He raised his hands in surrender, "Calm down, friend! Calm! You know us lads enjoy a friendly game of 'Bet With a Dragon'." He finished with a crooked grin.

She clenched the coin purse, Ash was seething. Jack noticed and cleared his throat, "Besides, the ba'tard needed to be knocked down a few notches. He been walking 'round town getting into brawls and braggin' on 'bout how he killed a giant himself." He began to giggle into his hand, "So, when us lads 'eard you were coming to town we set up arrangements knowing you would come to yer favorite inn with winter a brewin'."

She released her death grip on the purse and tied it to her waist. She sighed heavily and turned to pick up the fallen stool.

"You should warn me next time you and your party pull this stunt again." She turned away from him and sat on the stool and ordered.

"Then where would the fun in that be?" She heard him walk away. "At least change that bloody name! It's not even catchy." She hollered at Jack over her shoulder. He only replied with a good natured laugh. She let out a long, heavy, sigh and slumped into the counter with her head in her elbows.

"Long day, I assume?"

"You have no idea..." Ash didn't know who spoke to her. So, being polite, she turned her head toward the source of the voice. It came from the hooded figure she saw earlier at this counter before Trince provoked her.

His hood was still up but he was looking at her this time and he set his mug down. He was more on the older side, probably in his late fifties, with sunken in bright blue eyes, hollow cheeks and a greying beard that reached to the bottom of his neck. His clothes were only light brown robes with a purple sash hanging on his right shoulder. The only thing he had on his person was a iron dagger that looked no better than a kitchen knife.

"I haven't seen you around here before, sir. I would like to know who I'm speaking with if we are to chat over my dinner."

He chuckled, "Fare enough, I go by the name, D, these days. I am but a wonderer in search of new sites to see and I hope to find a specific person soon. It is very important." He held out his hand to her, "And you are?"

"I go by Ash, most days," she smiled at her own joke, "and what I could tell you about myself you can here through this song they are singing. Nice to meet you, D." She clasped his hand into her own but was struck by a feeling of pins and needles as soon as their hands touched. She tried to not show her discomfort by clenching her jaw and casually let go of his hand. Her hand still felt the needles.

He seemed to eye her for a moment before he stood up and paid the inn keeper. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet the Dovahkiin once in my long life!" He took out a hand watch and grimaced, his eyes brows furrowing together, "I would love to stay and chat more but I am on a tight schedule as it is." He pocketed the watch and he dipped his head to her, "I hope, in due time, we meet again, Ash." With those parting words he left out The Bannered Mare's doors and into the night.

Ash's back slumped heavily and let out a breathe she didn't know she was holding. That whole exchange she actually felt...intimidated, and it shocked her. She looked down at the palm of the hand she shook his with. The feeling completely left when he exited out the door.

'D...who are you?' She turned her palm into a fist. There is one thing that bothered her and it was completely obvious.

There were no signs of magic usage on his hands, so he is probably not a mage. So then, what wonderer travels with only a dagger at there hip?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> •Los hi siiv fah oaar?- Are you looking for this?  
> •Hin rot dreh ni peylaan wah zey, joor!- Your words mean nothing to me, mortal!  
> •hefhah- moron/idiot etc.  
> •Dovahzul- Dragon Speech  
> •Ganog!- Enough!  
> •Dovahkiin- Dragonborn
> 
> (I'm using the thuum.org translator for any dragon language in the story. Sorry for any inaccuracies(i guess?))
> 
> Thx for reading <3


	5. Tick Tock Goes the Clock

D left the loud and cheery atmosphere of The Bannered Mare and into the quiet night of Whiterun sent a rush of relief to his rather warm face. He supposes it is from the alcohol and chooses to relish in the after effects of intoxication, goodness knows how long since he last enjoyed such indulgences. But he can't linger much longer. He is on a tight schedule and this small detour was not part of his plans. He ventured down the stone path toward the wooden gates with his head down and a practiced smile upon his lips. It gave the guards he hobbled toward the illusion of a humble old man. 

D still felt the warmth from the alcohol within his stomach and a flush began to follow in its wake to his cheeks. He raised a hand to his mouth, and belched.

'It has been a very long time.'

D came upon the bridge which arched over the open canal that was just in front of the gates. He scrunched his nose as he caught the faint smell of human waste that was only masked by the strategically planted poppy flower along its border. He wonders how humans can possibly live with such close quarters as to where there own sewage resides. They possibly chose to ignore it all together or simply just didn't care so long as they didn't smell it. 'Ignorance is truly bliss.' He decides and shakes his head on the matter as he came up beside the only guard stationed there.

A gloved hand came into his view, "Hold it there old timer," D stopped in his path and looked at the Whiterun guard in confusion, "No one is aloud out of the city premises this late. Turn back now and reside in your home or place of residence until morn', as is the law of Jarl Greymaine."

D's scrunched eyebrows softened as he came into understanding of why the guard unnecessarily halted him. The smile returned to his face and laughed, although it sounded a bit raspy to his ears, "Oh! Is that all? Well I'm sure you can make an exception for an old man such as myself? I am rather new to this area and would like to be on my way toward familiar grounds." The guard, although D couldn't see through the helmet covering his whole face, rolled his eyes and squared his shoulders.

"Don't bother using petty persuasion like that on me! I've heard things like this plenty of times before." He placed a languid hand over the handle of the sword at his hip. Although casual as it is, it was a obvious threat and D's brows lifted at the gesture and swallowed thickly. "I will not ask again! Go back to your place of residence and stay their till come morn'. If you have a problem with it take it up with the Jarl tomorrow."

D took out the watch in his robe pocket and clicked it open, '10:30 p.m.? So many delays...'

He closed the watch and stuffed it in its pocket. Deciding he should rap up this little dilemma, he lifted his right hand directly in the guards face, "I am obligated to venture beyond these walls," gold mist began to swirl up his forearm and beyond his finger tips.

"What are you-"

The guard didn't finish before the golden mist flew into the eyeholes of his helmet. His head jerked back and he froze with a sharp gasp. D dropped his hand and so with it the spell.

He clasped his hands behind his back, and spoke, "May I pass, sir?" He cocked his head to the left, feigning pure innocence.

Instantly, the lads posture changed into a languid slouch and sagged his shoulders, he faced D once more, "You may pass." His voice sounded almost like a sigh, sounding as if he were in a dream like state. The guard turned on his heel suddenly and headed away from his post and down the stone path as if on a mission of his own.

Illusionary class spells. Convenient for not causing unneeded trouble and a great stress reliever in his book.

D's face changed into one of seriousness as he left through the gates and into the barren plains outside of Whiterun. The night time air bites at his face as he walks with long meaningful steps toward the stable. The wind nearly blew his hood off before he fixed it firmly in its place, he shivered once. After a minute, he is at the stable and grabs onto the bridle of his brown mare, following him without resistance. Leading her out, his gaze turned to the night sky.

Not a cloud was in sight which gave him the full view of the stars as they twinkled like a million diamonds. The two moons, Masser, and it's dwarfed sister, Secunda, shown brightly in the black sky. They have yet to reach their highest incline, though. But there was one color that was missing from this master piece. Looking back down, he pulled out the watch from his pocket and flipped it open.

"10:40, it should begin right about...now."

And by his word, the most beautiful aurora this era will ever see began its show. It began as a mere flicker of light blue, green and yellow as it dashed across the black, starlit sky. Then it expanded in large ripples for miles on end. The rays of light seemed to dance to their own tune, the inky black sky as their dance floor, and the stars were their shy partners.

The whole world seemed to hold its breath.

D tore his eyes away and hopped into the saddle of his mare. But before he can leave his eyes caught a sight he thought could not appear in this realm. And he disapproved greatly of its presence.

It was a black horse with normal brown eyes in its appearance to any mortal. But he can see right through the illusion cast upon it and see the bright ruby eyes of the daedric creature it truly is. 'What is one of Sithis' minions doing out of the abyss? Unless, of course...', a thought came to mind and he dreaded the thought of his theory being right. He lifted his right hand toward the creature, feeling it tingle as if being pricked with needles. The creature shuddered and began to pound on the gate with its hooves. Panicking as it struggled to keep its legs from collapsing. He intended on banishing it.

A red haze surrounded the beast. 'Am I wrong?' He clenched his hand, strengthening the spell with it, and the horse went still. It's mouth frozen in a stagnant cry and the spark in its beady eyes began to dim. He let out a breath, "Good...just another creature let loose."

He barely breathed a sigh before a silver haze took form around the creature. He was startled. It unfroze from his spell's binding and the silver haze receded from its form. The horse stood tall once again, stomping its hoof, hard, on the stall door, then huffed a snort in his direction.

He clenched his hand with new found irritation.

He looked toward the brightly lit city of Whiterun. "You have been reckless with your time...and your soul in this world, haven't you?" He made a disgusted noise, "Just more mess for me to clean up." He took hold of his mares reins once more and urged her forward intox a trot. 'You best come to me with haste, Dragonborn.' With that final, irritated, thought he ventured where the auric lights centered where the Time Scape was thin.


	6. Together

"Aw, come on! The night is still young. Join us for a round of shots, lass." Jack had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. His dark skin had a barely visible flush and he has not stopped smiling for the past twelve minutes. She struggled to keep him standing because he was practically placing all his weight on her. "I want to- to gain back my dignity," he lifted his other arm onto her shoulder for support and brought his face closer to hers, making eye contact,"a-and my money from our last drinking match!" 

Ash placed her hand onto his face and shoved it from hers. "You are already drunk and can barely stand." She lectured matter of factly. She grabbed his hand on her shoulder and hoisted him up higher onto his feet. He began to giggle.

"Besides, you are a horrible lightweight!" She accused heatedly. Jack just stared at her for a moment. Then what she said had dawned on him finally and he flinched and put his head down.

She walked over to the inn keeper with him on her shoulders,"Is there a room available?" She asked while hoisting Jack back onto her shoulders. Stopping him from sliding down her frame and onto the floor. His consciousness was waning, to her displeasure. The woman behind the counter looked at Jack with narrowed eyes and tsk'd. "Your friend can have the one on the second story." She went to the back and brought out a key,"You have ten gold on you, yes?"

Ash placed the ten gold, exact, on the counter as soon as the woman finished her sentence. The maiden looked at Ash with open distaste at her action. Ash didn't really care. This wasn't her first time having to go out of her way to help someone with her own hard earned gold. She wanted to get out of here as quick as possible and hit the road. No matter the time of day...or night.

"It's yours for a day." The woman placed the key into Ash's palm and pocketed the coin. 

"Thank you." She said.

Traveling up the stairs with dead weight on her shoulders is not her favorite past time. Jack past out half way up the stairs and began mumbling incoherent words into her ear. 'You owe me so much for this!' She thought with a grimace when she finally got to his door. Entering, she placed him on the bed. Leaving him sprawled over the covers.

"W-we should play...chess...next time, eh?"

Ash turned to the mumbling redguard but he was out cold again. She gave a smirk in his direction and left. 'Even in his sleep he still tries to make bets with me.' That thought made her chuckle.

 --------

She walked into the night air. The chill hit her like a force making her put up her hood and yank her scarf over the lower half of her face only keeping her eyes visible. Venturing down an alley, she got lost in her own thoughts without her realizing. It's a bad habit of hers that nearly got her killed by a patrol of Thalmor elves that were out for her head. They might still be after her. She hasn't been in the Reach for a while now. 'They hold grudges like a second skin.' She pondered.

Suddenly, a loud clang is heard from her right. The moonlight shined on her form but the alley was covered in shadow. She stiffens when she hears a low growl and spotted a pair of glowing eyes looking in her direction. Slowly reaching for her belt, she grabs hold of her dagger's hilt. The cool leather grip fitting perfectly to her palm. She assumes it's an animal. Probably starving and rabid. During the winter they become more and more common and hope you don't come into contact with the disease.

The creature lurched forward. It charged right at her with no restraint. She bent her knees, ready to attack when-

"Bark!"

The dog halted before her in the moonlight. Mouth in an open smile and tail wagging happily to see her. "Meeko." She frustratedly spoke his name. Letting go of the dagger she pat his dirty blonde head which he happily rubbed himself further into. "You come at me like that again it won't be a dagger I hold, but a fireball which I wouldn't hesitate to shoot in your direction!" She scolded the furry mutt. He kept smiling at her, though.

She knelt down and held his face,"You're not even listening, are you?" His answer was to lick her face. "You're hopeless."

With Meeko at her side she ventured out of Whiterun toward the stables. The air suddenly felt tense the closer she got. She slowed her stride as she neared a destroyed gate. It was the one where her horse was kept. 

She spotted the stable boy running to her with haste. His face was pale and he looked shaken,"Miss! I-I don't know what happened. Your horse," he caught his breath, "it went berserk out of nowhere, I swear!" She couldn't believe any of this but she saw no lie in the boy's eyes. With a curt nod, she spoke,"Do you know which direction he went?" The horse never left her side no matter the danger she found herself in. He wouldn't let himself get stolen by bandits, he'd kill them with his own hooves! So, why did it leave?

"It went north last I saw it. On that road there." He pointed to the road that started to disappear into the forest. "Thank you." And without another word she left in that direction with Meeko trotting on her heels.

"Miss! It's dangerous!" The boy yelled, frantic. 

"The only thing dangerous you should be worrying about is me if I can't find my horse." Her voice was laste with venom.

 -------

Snap.

There goes a twig.

Snap.

There goes another twig.

To say she was annoyed would be the exact definition of her. She had tried whistling for Shadowmere until her mouth got dry. She couldn't even find a trail. After about an hour she stopped searching and flopped onto her ass upon a fallen tree. Moss and mushrooms covered the part laying on the ground. She needed to vent her frustration so she resorted to snapping sticks. The louder the snap the better she felt.

The noticed snow beginning to fall, making her look up. Meeko curled into her side for warmth. Ash decided to call it a night so she collected the sticks she snapped and others nearby to make a fire. They were all in their neat pile with leaves at the base. She created a flame in her palm and was about to light it when suddenly-

Crack.

She whirled around. Out of nowhere a portal materialized, creating a great gust of wind in its wake. It crackled with energy and swirled in bright blue, white, and orange colors. It scared the daylights out of her, causing her to fall back onto the pile of sticks making her wince in pain. Meeko barked ferociously at it with his hair standing on end and his muzzle crinkled in a snarl.

Before she could pick herself up, everything went into reverse. The air that blew them down started to suck them in like a tornado. She instinctively grasped at whatever she could hold onto. The suction got stronger, pulling her legs up into the air and yanking her hood down as she clutched onto a rock. She, with great effort, willed herself not to scream.

But, suddenly, at the corner of her eye she saw Meeko lose whatever grip he had and began flying toward the vortex. Without thinking, she let go and caught Meeko with both her arms. Bringing him close to her as they hurtled into the portal. She is an idiot.

"Fuck!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *lowkey plays "Shots" in the background while writing this* :)
> 
> Thx 4 reading<3


	7. Questions Lead to More Questions

For a moment she couldn't breathe.

There's a constant ringing in her ears but she can't move her arms out of fear she'll drop the whimpering ball of fur in her arms. She kept her eyes shut tight as soon as she got sucked into the portal. She can feel her body being yanked every which way, furthering her struggle to keep Meeko in her arms. The need to yell was so powerful at that moment that bursting into peaces seemed very possible. But she couldn't even make a peep because her lungs felt like they were being constricted. Constricted to the point of suffocating until, finally, a sense of weightlessness surrounded her.

The ringing stopped. The tugging and the turning stopped. She felt the familiar sense of falling until finally landing into a pool of water with a loud splash.

She was submerged for a millisecond before feeling her back come into contact with the bottom. She tried to rise for air but Meeko wrestled his way out of her arms. Leaping away from her chest which resulted in her becoming submerged, again. Rising up with more haste, she gasped.

She greedily sucked in air, expanding her lungs to full compassity. Keeling over into a coughing fit, she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. At first glance it was an utter ruin. Its structure was dome in shape but the ceiling was destroyed. It gave a clear view of the night sky and the moon was shining directly above her, illuminating the resonance of the ruin she found herself in which the floor was completely immersed in possible rainwater let in through the ceiling. There were circular pillars standing resolutely toward the non-existent ceiling while others were completely crumbled or knocked down and half submerged in waste-deep water. The ruin looked completely empty if she were to be honest.

Wading through the water after finding her, now soaked, fallen satchel. She reached the nearest wall and pressed her forehead against it. "This is so not my day." 

With her face pressed to the wall she began to notice little pictures on the walls. 'Is that a...deer?'

Leaning back a little, she saw more of the picture. But it wasn't just one painting of a deer but also carvings of numerous species. The elf was able to make out the silhouettes of wolves playing with each other, herds of elk, hawks flying and mammoths roaming. She also noted spying dragons, dogs, cats, fish, saber cats, bats. All kinds of animals she could put an name to. But the strangest thing is...they began to very.

"What are you?" She wondered aloud to herself. Ash placed her hand upon a carving of some deer-like creature. It had the body of an elk but more slender in frame. The antlers were also most peculiar. Instead of the normal vertical out-branching commonly seen they stretched straight out of the back of its head and curved back. It was also twisted in a pattern completely unique to itself. 

It wasn't the only animal that left her with questions. There were some that walked on all fours with a humped back and short tusks protruded from its jaws. Others seemed very small and ran on two legs with its short arms close to its body. And one that she mistook for a rabbit but had to look again and found its nose looked more like a snout. She cocked her head in question at that one. 

The carvings completely covered the walls in a almost chain like formation, she looked down into the water and found it clear enough to make out more pictures. 

One thing still bothered her. Why was she here? 

Crossing her arms over her chest she grumbled in frustration. "First: my horse goes missing." She begins to pace, splashing as she does so,"Second: I am sucked into a portal. Which just had to appear out of nowhere...right where I was fucking standing, no less!" 

In her growing rage, fire began to ignite and climb up her arms.

"And third: I am sent, by said portal, to the Ruin of Child Drawings in the land of Gods knows where! Why the fu-"

She was cut off from finishing her, colorful, sentence when water was suddenly dunked onto her. Causing her fire to go out leaving only steam in its wake. Utterly shocked by the sudden turn of events she was speechless. Ash was certain she was the only one here, save for Meeko. Furiously wiping the water from her face she turned to where the water came from, her guard up.

"Well, I see your sarcasm has improved much over the years. I don't think I could have picked a better name for this place myself if I were being honest."

The voice belonged to a man standing atop one of the fallen pillars. He had a hood on so she couldn't see the upper half of his face and he was holding a bucket at his hip. He wore brown robes with a purple sash that didn't appear to show any sign of treading through the water. 

From what she seen there wasn't an exit or entrance from this place, it was all enclosed. She didn't even sense this man's presence or hear him. She started to grow weary.

The man smirked down at her and threw the bucket away, leaving an audible splash in the background. "I half expected you to use your specialty, lightning, in your little fit of rage just now." 

"Who are you?" She asked, growing confused by the familiarity in the way he talked to her. "Why do you talk to me as if you know me? How did you even-"

"Get in here?" He cut her off.

Hopping down, he walked over to her with surprising swagger in his step as if the water wasn't even there. Before he could get closer, though, she drew a dagger to his neck.

"Not an inch closer, thank you very much." 

The mysterious man raised his hands in mock surrender to her threat. Taking no further than a step back he moves to take his hood off. Without the hood she noticed the familiar sharp-edge of elven ears. He had no hair on top of his head and a short beard the color of honey tied in a ponytail on his chin. His eyes were brown, almost black in shade, fair-skinned, with honey-colored eyebrows that were arched sharply toward his eyes giving him an hard look. He is much taller than her and he gave a sense of superiority and arrogance in the way he held himself. She assumed Altmer right on the spot.

"Answer my question."

"I knew our meeting wouldn't be as friendly like at the inn but I highly suggest you put the dagger down. It wouldn't do you much good anyways."

She is completely lost, "I'll take my chances. And I've never seen your face before in my life, nor did we ever cross each other in any inn."

He smiled softly. "I'm getting ahead of myself, I see! Well, to enlighten you a bit we met, quite recently actually, at the Bannered Mare." He lifted a hand to his face and with a fluid swipe, it wasn't his face anymore. It was that old man, D.

She was quite caught off guard but she wasn't shaken. Something similar like this happened a few years ago. But it involved one too many mugs of strong ale and a Daedric Prince putting her on a wild goose chase only to prize her with a rose that could turn whatever into a sweet roll. 

It worked on a giant once. But she was too skeptical to partake of said sweet roll.

He swiped his hand again and the elf was back in place, smiling. "You see? We are well acquainted already!" He chuckled softly but within seconds he grew serious again.

"You're rather two-faced, you know?" She is growing irritated. It's like he is playing games with her. "So, your name is D? Or what?"

He waved a hand in her direction as if she were a bug buzzing in his ear. Not uncommon behavior for an Altmer but it still piss's her off in the end.

"If you don't answer, so help me, I will-"

"Yes, yes. Your question. Well, I go by many. To the elves it's Auri-El."

Her heart skipped a beat. Is this man still playing games? Or is he legit? She shook her head. 'No. This man is just crazy.'

Huffing in exasperation, she sheathes her dagger and turned sharply on her heel. "You're crazy." She called over her shoulder. But before she took another step, she froze on the spot. But it wasn't her doing. The Altmer appeared in front of her with a pocket watch in his hand. It didn't tick.

"It's rude to ignore or, let alone, interrupt your elders. Especially me." She was completely paralyzed. 'Did he do that? Was it the un-ticking watch? Or him and the watch?' Her mind was racing a million magical scenarios a second. What enchantment was this? None of the ones she knew worked this long.

"Now, to the Nordic folk, I am also called Akatosh. The Dragon God of Time." With a quick shutting snap of his watch she was able to move again. She collapsed onto her rump with a splash and looked up slowly at him. His hands were behind his back and looking down at her with a hard gaze. Not carefree like before.

She tried hard to swallow. "Are you...s-serious?" He nodded. "Then your the one that created the Dragonborn. The one that created...me?" She felt like it was a stupid question to even ask. But what was one supposed to ask when your very being was created by a divine entity?

He nodded his head again, this time slower, "And the predecessors before you."

She smiled inwardly to herself until she realized something. "Huh. Is it just me? Or is it the common past time for divine beings to dress as hermits and appear at rundown bars?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And one that she mistook for a rabbit but had to look again and found its nose looked more like a snout. She cocked her head in question at that one."
> 
> And this, ladies and gentlemen, is a dragonborn viewing a nug for the first time~
> 
> XD Thanks for reading <3


	8. Down the Rabbit Hole

The look on the divine's face; the pure look of exasperation in distaste to her joke was too much for her to handle. It started as a snort, but without any willpower at all, she exploded into a fit of laughter. Akatosh was not amused.

"I mean, seriously!" She cried between fits of laughter. "First, it was Sanguine at The Bannered Mare dressed in only a black robe with a heavy scent of liquor surrounding him. He practically posed as a bum with a drinking problem!" Ash could sense the irritation and growing impatience surrounding Akatosh. But she didn't care and just kept going, "And now you! The Great and All Mighty Akatosh, the Father of Dragons! Is seen also at The Bannered Mare in the form of an old wandering man enjoying his share of ale. Do divine's favor that place or something?" 

"Are you quite done?" Akatosh inquired sharply.

Her chuckles began to die down when she saw how cross he looked at her. She swore she saw a fire in his eyes; but she managed to keep the mirthful thought with her. "Yeah, yeah, okay."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were a child in an adult skin."

She scrunched her nose, "I am very much an adult...I just choose not to act as such."

"Could have fooled me."

"Funny."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and heavily sighed, "This is getting us nowhere. And so much time has been wasted." He mumbled to himself, but Ash heard him.

She looked at him questionably, "You keep mentioning something about 'losing time'. What do you mean by that?" He looked at her with a calculative gaze while straightening his posture. Regaining his aura of arrogance as he clenched his hands behind his back. "My answer will also explain why you are here. It's because of your Timeline. I summoned that portal to your location because I already knew you would be there. It wasn't by chance or a simple tracking spell but by me knowing where you are to be. The specific hour, minute, second and millisecond." As if to put more emphasis, he took out the pocket-watch, it swished back and forth as if to mock her. "All mortals have their own Timeline. I'm just keeping tabs on yours because your time here is coming to an end."

The hairs on the back of her neck rose. What is he going on about? "What the fuck do you mean by that? Is this your, what, divine way of saying 'hey, your gonna die soon just to let ya' know'?" She can hear her heart racing in her ears; fearing that is what he is implying. Ash received her fair share of death threats throughout her years but never received them quite as cryptic.

Akatosh huffed a small laugh, "Is that what you think? On the contrary it's quite the opposite. I meant that your time here, physically, on Nirn, is almost up." Her brows pulled together in confusion. "And? How does that sound any different?" 

He gestured for her to sit, so she sat on a toppled over column. 

"Long before what you mortals called the Mystic Era, Lorkhan was in the midst of his creation of the Mortal Plane, Nirn. Now, Lorkhan was very...curious than what history lets on, believe it or not. He was also an opportunist." Akatosh smirked and closed his eyes briefly, as if in a blissful memory, "Before Nirn could be finished, he came to us, originally the Eight before Talos rose to divine status, with an idea. It was the most absurd idea any of us, even me, could comprehend back then."

He paused for a moment. She didn't know it but Ash was completely immersed in his story. No. This wasn't just a story. This was history; unknown history no text or mortal has ever heard or witnessed. And here she is, the first, if not only, to hear this lost knowledge. She doesn't want to lose any details so she soaks it like a sponge. "What was it?" She asked with barely hidden eagerness.

"He told us, 'I need your aid of the creation for a second world.'"

Her breath caught. Her jaw would have touched the floor if it were possible. 'Could another world actually exist?' She leaned forward, "Are you saying there is another world? Is it like ours? Why do we not-" 

"I'm not done yet. Hush." He scolded.

"Okay, please, continue." She felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment.

He took a moment of silence before he continued. "We were all willing to take part in his request. For we wondered what kind of potential we could conjure with a second plane. That was until he told us the conditions for the new world." He paused, "He said we were 'not to have any influence in the new world'. That ultimatum caused many arguments against its creation. Kynareth was quick to agree to the creation than the rest of us. Arkay was second to agree because he was, like Larkhan, an opportunist and eagerly consulted with Larkhan the life that is to inhabit the potential world. Stendarr eventually agreed shortly after. Mara and Dibella did not shed their love on the idea as easily but eventually relented. Julianos, as wise as he is, was not quite open-minded until much logical reasoning on Arkay's part. Zenithar then had no interest because he believed it to be 'unneeded and was not worth the effort unless he gained a profit'. So, for his 'profit', Kynareth promised him one of her treasured blue stars for his help; and so he did."

Ash was baffled at what she was hearing. He spoke of the divines as if they were near complete opposites of what they represent today. 'God's must probably change over time as well.' She ponders.

"But I, I saw right through the surface of Larkhan's plan. The bigger picture. This was a game to him. A game of 'What If?' I consulted him on my speculations, and he said to me with a child-like smile 'I am creating this world because I want to, friend. I want to know what would happen to a world without our interferences.'"

The Bosmer was stumped at what Larkhan wanted to know. She looked up to the starry sky through the destroyed ceiling and pondered. She lives in a world where appearances from aedra and daedra were the norm. 'I wonder what it's like not being watched over by a god, or gods.' She exhaled heavily and looked back at Akatosh to find him starring at her.

He walked around her toward a large lifted platform completely clear of the water. He beckoned her over with a flick of his wrist. "This is where your part comes in."

"My part?"

"Yes." Ash waded through the water to his side up the stairs. "After the second mortal plane was created, we all pitched in what we could for the world's inhabitants. We left them capable of discovering music, literature, concept of time and much that is basic knowledge for the inhabitants here on Nirn. We observe the happenings but never interfere, as is promised." Akatosh's eyes suddenly darkened and his brows furrowed together. Making him look angry for a moment.

"But...I have foreseen events there that will shake the very sky itself."

"What did you see?"

"It was all fuzzy, Ash. And I was only able to catch glimpses of future events that even I can't put into words."

She is starting to feel suspicious about where this is going. 

"I brought you here on this very night where the Time Skape is at its thinnest," he looks straight into her eyes, which are trying their hardest to burrow holes into his skull, "Ash, Dragonborn, you are to go to that world because that is where your new destiny lies." He spoke with utmost authority and finality.

"Fuck. No." 

"You have no choice."

"Watch me!" She summoned her invisibility cloak in a flash. But before she could take two steps away from the divine he already had her in the same paralysis spell. And her cloak wore off instantly.

"When will you learn?"

"...f...ew."

"What was that?" He closed the unticking pocket-watch and the paralysis wore off.

The Bosmer looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Fuck you." With as much ferocity as she could muster. 

Akatosh only rolled his eyes. "Language." He chided.

She was mad. No, she was furious. "No way in Oblivion am I going to go through some god sent destiny chase just because you say so! I already went through so much stress knowing a fucking World Eater is out to destroy all that I know! I already played my shitty role in saving this world so I would very much like to live a bloody normal life for once! Thanks for the story an all but get someone fucking else to do your bidding." She was hyperventilating at this point and had to put her hands on her knees. Her dragon blood was boiling and she could feel a shout forming at the back of her throat. She didn't notice she made the ground shake a little.

"If I knew anyone else capable enough to do what you can, do you think I would have chose them instead?" His voice was low yet gentle. He put a hand on her shaking shoulder, "Also, your the only one capable of surviving the spell to get you there, due to your dragon soul. Any other mortal would vaporize."

"Woopty doo. How lucky I am."

After a couple minutes her mental freak out began to dissipate and she could breathe normally again. Still with her hands on her knees, she looked up at Akatosh to him watching her, he gave her space which see was grateful for. She had come to terms with what she has to do. She wasn't happy with it, but what has she got to lose?

Ash straightened herself out, standing tall with her regained dignity, she spoke, "Alright, then. Let's do this thing."

Akatosh visibly relaxed at her answer. "Thank you. Now can you please stand over-"

"On one condition." She interrupted with a smirk playing on her lips.

"What?" 

"I get to bring my dog."

He seemed confused, "What dog?"

"Meeko, come out!" She called. She spotted his blonde form come out of a hiding spot in the wall. He was visibly shaking and his tail was between his legs. He was hiding and scared out of his mind the whole time, she couldn't hold it against him for not helping her earlier. "I'm taking him with me."

"I told you nothing can survive the spell except you. How do you expect your mutt to survive?"

Ash opened the flap of her satchel. To anyone not knowing what's inside it would inevitably see nothing, but in reality it has an enchantment that allows anything she can carry to fit into it. 

"Hop in." Meeko followed command and practically 'disappeared' inside the satchel. Lifting it into her shoulder she could feel a little change in weight but it is still manageable to carry. She looks to Akatosh without batting an eye, "You going to get that spell ready or what? I'm all set."

He nodded toward her and began the spell. With a wave of his hand he conjured a swirling vortex of color. Much similar the one that sucked her to where she is now but it had bright green and orange. Akatosh faced her, "Now, I will warn you that this world is a bit different from yours. Its laws of magic are different, its people are different, and so is the language. So I suggest you be a quick learner."

"You are telling me this now?" She guffawed.

"It never came up." Was his reply.

Before she stepped through, she asked one more question. "You keep calling it the 'other world'. Doesn't it have a name? Like Nirn?"

"Yes, it does. Larkhan called it Thedas, if I recall."

"...Thedas." She stepped forward into the portal. And she was in Nirn no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Akatosh created the Dragonborn I like to think of him as a sort of "I-created-you-so-I-guess-I-have-to-take-responsibility-of-you" parent. But his Dovahkiin, in Skyrim, happens to be the youngest that refuses to listen and in that rebellious teenager phase. Lol
> 
> Thx for reading~


	9. At a Crossroads

"It seems a storm is coming, da'len." Observed the Keeper standing near the opening of her aravel. Her eyes staring skyward toward the ominous clouds overshadowing her clans campsite. They have taken shelter under the canopy of an old, dense, forest just bordering the Tevinter Imperium's border. 

The clan has been traveling down south for a little over a week and they finally began to grow weary and fatigued. They had to stop anyways in order to restock on diminishing supplies that will be essential for the coming winter. And the halla need to graze for a bit and rest; least they, too, grow fatigued to the point to where they can't haul the aravels anymore. 

"Yes, Keeper." Replied her First. 

She left the opening of her aravel's flap and sat cross-legged near her First on a cushion. He was facing away from her. "We will be nearing a small village in a few days. I need you to be cautious with your spells hence not to rouse unwanted attention to yourself or the rest of the clan while we head to the trading market, am I understood?" She grabbed onto a needle and thread from a basket and began to work on her unfinished mat. It had the unfinished design of a sword and shield.

"Yes, Keeper." Came the same reply. 

The Keeper stopped her sowing and gently placed the mat, needle, and thread onto the floor. Placing her hands into her lap, "Do you believe me an old hag that will die in the next hour?"

"Yes, Keeper." He replied.

Her eyebrow twitched. She reached over and yanked him by the ear, hearing a cry of pain from the young man. "Ow! K-Keeper that's my ear!" He cried.

She had a sinister glint in her eye. "Kane Lavellan," she spoke sweetly, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were ignoring me." Deshana let go of his ear after he whimpered an apology. Kane scrambled to the other side of the aravel, holding his ear and any curse words that would get him in more trouble. "You didn't have to be so harsh, hahren." He glared.

Deshana huffed in his direction but regained her composure a few seconds later. She returned to her work, shaking her head. 

Kane rubbed his ear until the sting lessened. When he glanced back toward Keeper Deshanna, the frown on his face disappeared after spotting the lines of her wrinkled face appear to have deepened. Kane knows that look of worry anywhere; evident that something has been bothering her. The young man walks in front of his keeper and crouches so he is at eye level. Her hands still weaved her mat with practiced motions. He swallowed, "Ir abelas, hahren. I didn't mean to not listen to you. My mind was a little...preoccupied."

She didn't reply for a time, so Kane waited. He lifted his head to the roof after hearing the light taps of rain hitting the roof of the aravel; he did hear Deshanna mention a storm before he completely cut her off from his hearing. He heard her exhale a sigh and he turned to her again. She faced him, "You know I worry for you." Kane instantly scoffed, "Keeper, I'm not a child that constantly needs to be looked after! I can well handle my spells than I did a year ago!"

"And a year ago you were almost at the mercy of the templars!" Her voice rose. Kane's face instantly fell and went silent after the Keeper brought up what transpired a year ago. He went with the rest of his clansmen into a town that they were stationed at for a little over a month. He strayed too far from their group when he spotted an interesting hat with a blue feather connected to it. He was so entranced with the thing that when he went to touch the soft downy of the feather he caused a flame to ignite on the hat. The fire spread too fast for anyone to douse it and caused the whole shop keeper's stand to burst into flame; leaving only a charred, smoldering, mess in its wake. 

He has felt much guilt after that event. If it weren't for his clansmen coming to his aid to protect him when the Templars were on the verge of cutting him down and ending his life right then and there. Keeper Deshanna went as far as to give her word to the Templar Commanding Officer that they will surrender half the clans' supplies in an effort to make up for the damage he caused as an apology and for the clan to leave and not return to their town. 

His whole clan was enraged at him and his mistake. But he was protected again by Deshanna as she told everyone to "Make due with what we had" and to "Thank the Creators that the problem didn't become catastrophic."

He should have felt every ounce of gratitude to Deshanna at that point in time. But, instead, he felt absolutely pathetic and such a burden to everyone. And himself.

He clenched his hand into the knitting of his trousers. Self-loathing began to build in his chest at the memory. But instantly a cool, wrinkled, hand was placed upon his and he immediately unclenched his hand, but the weight in his chest stayed.

The Keeper finally spoke, "Ir abelas, da'len. I did not mean to invoke the memories of the past." Her thumb moved in calming circles upon his hand. She, too, felt guilt at the mention of the past, knowing full well that it is a troubling topic for her young First. "But, there is still no harm for one to be cautious after such an experience. And you know that, yes?"

Kane took his hand out from under hers. Straightening and squaring his shoulders, he clears his throat, "Yes, hahren." He turns to leave the aravel without speaking a word further. Before he reaches the flaps, Keeper Deshanna halts him. 

"Wait." she commands.

Kane turns to her as he hears her get up. "Since you are so eager to leave," she began, "I need you to collect wood. We are running short in our supply and I believe it is in everyone's best interest to not get caught in the unforgiving cold when winter chooses to greet us." She threw some leather binding in his direction that he fumbles to catch, having been caught off guard by the request. 

Kane was baffled all the same. "Gathering is part of the hunters jobs! Why me?" he strongly protested.

Deshanna scoffed at his childish complaint, "You've been cooped up in here too long. You need the air to clear that mind of yours and since I had your nose stuffed in a book since dawn...I would like you to practice your spells since there shouldn't be any distractions."

"I told you, already, that I can handle my magic!" He didn't mean to raise his voice, but he was getting tired of being coddled like a child. 

"Did I say I doubted your ability, da'len?" Her voice went on edge for a moment but she caught herself, not wanting to renew another argument. "It's as the saying goes, 'practice makes perfect.' I'm asking you to refresh yourself with your talent." Kane looked away, already regretting for his assumption. Keeper Deshanna chuckled at his change in demeanor, "We don't want to get rusty now, do we?" She lifted a hand and a small flurry of ice and snow danced in her palm as if to emphasize her question. Kane attempted to hide a snort, but failed.

When her mini flurry diminished, she spoke, "Alright, that's enough now. If you want to make it back before the rain gets heavy I suggest you git." 

Kane nods, "I'll be back soon." And he leaves, hopping out of the aravel and his bare feet squishing in the soggy grass and mud. He scrunched his nose at his already muddy feet. Summoning a weak barrier over his head to help shield him from the pelting rain, he crossed the Lavellan Clan's encampment and into the denser parts of the forest.

 --------

"By the Dread Wolf, I hate rain and mud!" 

Not long after he left camp did the rain start its downpour. He managed to collect a small bundle of good sized branches and sticks but the bundle fatigued him greatly. Hunched over as he was, he still needed to collect more. If he returned with his sad excuse of a bunch of firewood compared to what the hunters haul in he'd never hear the end of it. 

Taking shelter under a large tree that blocked the rains wrath, he set his bounty down with a heavy sigh and slumped down against the tree. He wanted to rest a little but he suddenly remembered the Keeper wanting him to practice a little with his magic. He looked down at his pale newly calloused hands, and clenched them.

'Practice makes perfect, right?' He subconsciously reminded himself. Sitting up straight and crossing his legs, he tapped into his mana and focused it into a flame in the palm of his hands. He always started off small, not wanting to risk an accident, and gradually let it grow until the heat began to become too much. He then focused to creating ice, forming his magic to become sharper and unforgiving, a mini hail storm instantly appeared in his hands. Ice was always the easiest for him to work with ever since he was young. Dissipating the flurry he now focused with lightning. This was always the hardest for him because it was more complex to control, to anyone, in actuality. 

Standing to his feet, in case this were to blow up in his face like many times before, he lifted his hands up and curled his fingers, making them look rigid. Lightning was wild yet controlled and jolty, never wanting to be focused in one spot. Focusing that power to his hands was always tricky. But, he managed to conduct a small bit of lightning to his palm. It's small but significant to him.

He smile crept to his lips, "Ha! Mythal'enaste, my luck is beginning to turn!" Suddenly, something heavy fell onto his head. With a cry of pain he crumpled to the ground, holding his head. 

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" He cursed. Sitting up, still holding his head, his face scrunched into an ugly scowl, he spotted the offending object. It looked like a leather bag of sorts. 'Did someone throw that?' He inquired. Quickly standing up, he turned his body in all directions trying to find the person. But there was no one.

Looking to the satchel, he tilted his head in question. Walking to it, he grabbed the strap and yanked it closer. Maneuvering it around so to find the flaps buckle, he began to untie it. 

'It's probably some smugglers stash. Or someone lost it?' He began to ponder. After opening the flap, he peered inside only to find...nothing. 

"There's nothing in here. But why did it feel like it was carrying a book or something?" He scratched the top of his head, only to flinch when he felt a sharp pain as soon as he touched it. "And that's going the leave a bump." He sighed.

Then he realized, 'It hit me from above so...' He heard the snapping of branches and small limbs. Sharply, he looked up, only to be crushed onto his front when something really heavy landed on top of him. Completely knocking the wind from him.

"Why is it...always...me?" He wheezed miserably. Gaining his air back after lying there like a log for a few minutes, he pushed the object off of his back with a grunt.

What he saw stunned him. It was a person, definitely, but what struck him was how odd their clothing was. It was pitch black with intricate silver swirled designs. Complete with a black cape, a hood, and a mask so he couldn't see their face. Their very presence, though, just felt so...heavy.

How did he not know they were up their in the first place? 

He swallowed, "Hey...are you okay?" They didn't answer. He barely noticed their chest was rising in deep slow breathes, like they were sleeping. 'They're probably unconscious.'

Crossing over to them, he shook their shoulder for good measure. He waited but got no response. So, he goes to remove their mask first after untying the string. Placing it down beside him he removes the hood and finds them to be a woman. 

Placing two fingers on her neck he finds the pulse to see if there is anything immediately wrong, but, thankfully, there wasn't. Taking a deep breath, he started to relax a little. 

Looking down to her face again, he finds that her features are very sharp. Which seemed a little unnatural if he were to be honest with himself. There were three tiny scars on her left cheek just under her eye. Her face was tanned and dusted with freckles. He, hesitantly, brushed some brown hair from her face which revealed long pointed ears. 

'Flat-ear, then?' He mused, seeing as she is not one of the Dalish. Her ears seemed longer than what he found normal, though. Actually, everything about this strange elf screamed foreign to Kane. Maybe he shouldn't judge; he hasn't seen many elves other than when he went to the Arlathvhen, which was the most elves he's seen at once. And he's only seen a handful of city elves. 

The sound of thunder broke his train of thought. He has completely missed how late its gotten, too! Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed his bundle of wood and fastened it onto his back and tied the straps across his chest. The weight instantly pressing down on him. He was set on leaving until his eyes fell back to the prone elf on the forest floor. 

'Leaving her would probably be best.' He thought. They could be a wanted criminal for all he knew and would bring unwanted attention to The People. His people. 'She is fine anyways. She'll wake up in an hour or so and be on her merry way.' He rationalizes with himself. 

Before he can step away, though, a thought strikes him like a smack to the face. 'Flat-ear, yes. But still of The People.' His thoughts begin to betray him. Deshanna taught everyone in the clan: regardless of our roots we all descended from those before the fall of Arlathan. 

Kane faces the woman again, "But, is it worth taking you, a possible threat, in?" He was at war with rationality and responsibility.

It would be rational to leave her be. But, it would be his responsibility as one of The People to care for another of The People.

The rain suddenly grew frigid and started to beat harder into the ground and atop his head, plastering his long silver hair to his forehead. Goose flesh formed on his arms.

He exhaled heavily, "You better not be trouble."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> •Da'len- Little child  
> •Hahren- Elder/Respected elder  
> •Ir abelas- I am sorry  
> •Mythal'enaste- Mythal's favor


	10. Making a First Impression

Ash wakes up with a start. Hearing a loud ringing in her ears she tightly shut her eyes and held her head for what felt like ages before the ringing finally subsided. Opening her eyes again, she felt very disoriented and on the verge of vomiting. Scrunching her face into a grimace, she pinched the bridge of her nose, 'He could have at least warned me there would be side affects when traveling between worlds. Or is it just me?' She ponders ruefully.

Letting the disorientation and nausea subside before she opened her eyes again, she moves to get up when she feels something slide off her. Looking down to her lap, she finds a soft fur blanket draped on her person and she is also laying on a cot. Her nightingale armor had been replaced with a loosely fitted light brown tunic and trousers replaced with equally loosely fitted black leather trousers. Her hairs on the back of her neck immediately rose.

'Who changed me? And should I be worried?' She thought, immediately thinking of a worst case scenario.

Quickly looking around, she appeared to be in a tent or hut of sorts. The interior was circular and pretty roomy with a small fire burning lively in a small pit in the center. There were pillows and matts placed here and there in order for the place to feel more cozy since the flooring was just dirt, if she were to guess. Small trinkets hung from the domed ceiling, some with feathers and some with beads, and they would twinkle a little tune every now and then. There were benches, tables, and shelves along the wall opposite of her with bottles, vials, and papers scattered half-hazardously with a few on the ground. Which she feared would soon become a fire hazard if they're not picked up.

"Could this be a place of healing?" She mumbles to herself as she scratches the back of her head.

Suddenly, she hears voices on the outside of her hut but they were muffled. Instinctively, she reaches for her sword at her hip, only to find it missing. "What?" She hissed lowly to herself, hoping no one heard her. Ash rose to her feet with haste but immediately grew disoriented by the action. On silent feet, she searches the whole hut for her weapons and clothes only to devastatingly discover all of her inventory was not in there. "Shit!" She cursed. She felt absolutely naked without her daggers and swords. Knowing fully well she could rely on her magic and thu'um for any attack, she always preferred having backup in case things went sour. 

'Wait. Akatosh mentioned magic worked differently here,' she stopped her movements, 'but he never said how much differently!' She realized with a growing new dread. Settling down after listening outside for any movement leading toward her, she focused on summoning her bound sword. Normally, all she did was focus her connection with the void and with a wave of her hand it appeared with little to no effort. But now the connection felt agonizingly fuzzy. Like a thick, woolly, blanket was placed on top of her connection to her magic and the void, practically smothering it and not letting it breathe. Could this affect her thu'um, as well?

Quitting on her bound sword, she opted to test out her aura whisper, for it was silent and worked in her favor with whom she was dealing with outside the hut.

"Laas yah nir." She whispered.

Not a moment after she spoken those three words did her vision turn the familiar shade of red. Her shouts still worked! She had to stop herself from laughing in delight so no one hears her. Now, she can see all the life forces of the people outside. She counted about thirty six in all. Some children, some adults. None of them moved in any way that looked threatening and no one guarded her hut. But that doesn't mean they're not threatening to her.

After the affects of her thu'um faded, she focused on arming herself again with her bound sword. 'Come on. Come on.' She kept chanting the same phrase for ten minutes until finally she successfully summoned her sword. A sweat began to form on her brow, "Finally..." she breathed.

Not a moment after her triumph, she heard the soft foot falls of feet heading her way. Panicked, not knowing if they were a threat or not, she silently scuffled to the side of the flap leading outside and pressed herself to the wall. Her resolve hardened for what she was about to do. Her ghostly sword on her side, her knees bent, ready to spring onto her victim.

As they entered, they briskly walked over to the desk. Scribbling something down onto a parchment of paper, they glanced over to where her cot lay. They noticed she wasn't there. Not giving them a moment to turn around or alarm anyone, she snatched their left arm and twisted it behind their back to between their shoulder blades and brought her sword to their neck. They didn't so much as breathe or twitch a muscle.

"Where am I?" She demanded.

They didn't reply except for a few cries of pain that they failed to stifle. She applied more pressure to their arm, "I ask again. Where am I?" She demanded more forcefully.

This time they replied, but not in a dialect she ever heard or understands. They spewed words to her but they were all gibberish in her ears. She couldn't believe this: she has a person at knife point, is interrogating them, yet she doesn't understand a word they are saying and most likely neither do they!

'Now, I will warn you that this world is a bit different from yours. Its laws of magic are different, its people are different, and so is the language.' She feels so stupid for forgetting that bit of information. 'Real nice first impression there, Ash. You got this all in the bag. Good job.'

\--------

Kane is worried. The woman he found in the woods hasn't woken up in three days. 

When he got back to the clan, it had gotten late and the rain was in a full out frenzy. Constantly pelting down on both him and the unconscious woman hanging on his side with her arm over his shoulder. The weight of the wood on his back and the strange elf made him deeply regret his decision with taking her with him. 

He yelled at everyone that was still up to go get the clans healer, Zhíla, to help her. He explained to everyone the situation of how he found her, but that was all he could tell them. "She fell on me," he would say. When Zhíla came to take the strange elf away along with her assistant, a few of his clansmen pat him on the back for his efforts while others questioned if he new what he was doing bringing a stranger into their midst. He questioned himself that the whole time he dragged her here.

Keeper Deshanna, though, appraised him the most. Saying he did a good thing bringing her here after she visited the clan's guest herself in the healing tent and discovering that the woman had a dangerously high fever. There's a certain naïveté to the Keeper that Kane has yet to understand. She is, more often than not, open to any elf the clan comes across. She welcomes them all with open arms when they are in need, be it Dalish or a city-elf, a flat-ear. Kane worries that the next elf in need of aid might not be as friendly and dreads to see the look on Deshanna's face when that happens.

Shaking the melancholic thoughts from his mind, he grabs his staff and leaves his aravel in the direction of Zhíla's tent. He wanted to be of some use after burdening her with the care of a stranger. He's become adept at the art of healing and he pondered if it could speeden up the process of that woman awakening. But Zhíla might just as quickly turn him down on the offer because she believes "medicinal herbs and rest works just as well as any magic" which is what she would say. But, magic works much faster.

As he walks closer to the tent, his ears twitch, he hears voices inside the tent, but they are muffled, 'Is she awake?' He questions. Quickening his pace out of sheer curiosity to find out about the elf he found three days ago, he halts by the entrance and places his ear near it.

He waits as they both have gone silent, but then-

"Please! Please don't hurt me! I don't understand what your saying, just please, let me go!"

He suddenly grew very cold. This is exactly what he feared! Taking his staff off his back, he barges in to find Zhíla with her arm behind her back and the elf woman holding some spectral sword to her throat. Zhíla saw him, fear evident in her coal black eyes. And so did the stranger, her eyes a complete contrast to Zhíla's. Her eyes are a bright silver with black surrounding the iris, her eyes show no mercy, like one who has killed many in their time. He held his staff tightly in both hands, charging it with mana.

The woman locked eyes with him, almost seeming they can look right through him and into his very soul. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

In this moment, he was truly afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First shout in a new world, discovering her magic capabilities, and already making new friends! *sniffles* Our dovah is growing up SO fast!
> 
> I believe that since magic is restrained in Thedas and it affecting everyone with magical talent, it will definitely affect an otherworlders capabilities as well once they are introduced to the atmosphere.


	11. The Great Escape

The grip on his staff began to slip for his hands were sweating profusely in their standoff. Neither Kane or the strange elf moved a muscle. Zhíla plead Kane with her eyes for him to help her but he feared, with that spectral sword at her throat, if he moved she wouldn't hesitate to kill her. Kane swallowed the forming lump in his throat and tried desperately to calm his frantic heart. 

The elf's eyes move for a second away from him as if looking behind him. 'Is she looking for a way to escape?' he ponders to himself. 'She's probably gonna take Zhíla as hostage. Elgar'nan...she can fucking try it!' the thought makes him desperately steel his shaky resolve. Kane exhales and slowly begins to firm his stance.

'She's also a mage...' This new development makes him question if he could even overpower her. With her awake as she is he can feel the true extent of her power. Kane never felt magic like this before and he knows it outranks his own without question.

He can see her calculating her next move and he catches a smirk lifting her lips. Suddenly, her eyes flash a shade brighter than they already were and he feels a spike in her mana. He needs to act now!

"Zhíla, get down now!" 

Without hesitation, using her free hand, she elbows the woman in the gut which successfully winds her. Causing Zhíla to wrench herself from her grasp and dived to the matted floor. 

Taking his chance, he swipes his staff in the woman's direction, intent on freezing her with his winter's grasp. 

Kane hears a series of words that he couldn't catch meaning to and suddenly a gust of wind knocks him to the side like nothing. He lands harshly on his shoulder into one of the cots. Biting his cheek and ignoring the pain, he glanced to where the woman was but she was no longer there. Instead, the projectile of his winter's grasp blew a hole onto the side of the tent.

"Did she escape?" he heard Zhíla ask, frantic evident in her voice.

But Kane wasn't listening to her. His ears twitching, he hears cries of alarm and shouting from his clan outside the tent. "Does that answer your question? Of course, she escaped!"

Without another word, he reclaimed his staff and rushed to join his clan.

\-------

The mage attacked her suddenly, shooting a form of ice magic at her.

"Wuld nah kest!" she shouted before the projectile could reach her. Immediately, Ash was out of the tent and away from that mage. 

As her whirlwind sprint ended as abruptly as it started, it landed her right in the middle of the campsite she found herself in this morning. Only, she is actually seeing the people and they are all staring at her. Immediately hearing cries of fear, surprise and the unsheathing of weapons and the stretch of bows...she bolted. Ash knew she wouldn't be able to communicate at all so she figured there was no point in trying to clear all that she did not seconds ago up. The man that entered the tent will more than likely reveal what he seen her do to that woman and the rest of his buddies will kill her. He most likely thought Ash was going to kill her after seeing her sword at the woman's throat the way it was. She should've chided herself for making such rash decisions of interrogation. Ash dodged a swipe from a sword that was aimed at her head by sliding on her knees along the dew covered grass whilst simultaneously latching onto the human's leg, successfully making him lose his already off balance and made him fall to the ground face first, 'I really should've just asked that woman where I was. Now I need to deal with this shit.' she complained. 

Catching view of the tree line, she pumped her legs much harder, trying desperately to reach it and disappear. Catching her off guard, she was tackled to the ground suddenly by a heavily armored woman from her left side. With the woman still clutching her, they rolled down a small dirt hill and into a puddle of mud. The armored woman landed on top of her, giving her a small edge to attempt to hold her down. 

Ash can hear the rest of the humans getting closer with their frantic running and shouting. She can't understand a word they are saying and it frustrated her so much! The human on top of her straddled her hips and struggled to hold Ash's arms down while Ash tried to wiggle her way out from under her. She'd think the mud would help but it didn't do squat to loosen the human's vice grip! The woman began yelling in her strange language away from Ash, "You telling them to hurry up or something?" 

The woman looked back at her, eyes wide with surprise, probably because she doesn't understand her either. Just as she planned.

"Faas ru!"

Immediately, the woman grew pale and fear filled her eyes. She leapt off of Ash and frantically crawled away from her, intimidated at the very sight of her. Ash quickly rose to her feet, towering over the cowering warrior. The woman mumbled a few words at her, 'Either a prayer or a curse most likely.' she thought as an arrow soared at her, just missing her arm and burying itself in the sodden grass. Ash finally got to the tree line, but she she didn't stop just yet for they were still after her.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit..."she mumbled when arrows would bury themselves on the ground and in trees near her. It didn't help at all when her bare feet would stomp into a particularly thorny patch of needles, sticks, and rocks. 'I should just turn into a werewolf, then I could lose them-'

As soon as she turned a corner, her foot got caught on something, making her trip a little. Hearing gears turning and the audible thump of a heavy object she grew cold with dread. Looking down, she found she was standing over a cleverly hidden net trap. Not wasting a millisecond she moves to get out of it but she was immediately captured in its grasp. All sides rose and closed in on her and Ash was lifted into the canopy of the tree it was tied to. Ash couldn't get a footing so her feet dangled through the holes of the net trap and she swayed with the netting like a prize.

She attempted to summon her bound sword or some fire but her magic just wouldn't listen! "Ugh!" she cried in frustration.

\-------

When the hunters and warriors from that tribe found her they immediately started laughing. If she were to guess right, this is one of their traps. "They were definitely leading me here as soon as I escaped their grounds." she mumbled. 

A group of three left to who knows where, while the group of five that was left stayed with her and kept watch. One of them was that mage that tried to take her out with his magic. He stared at her while she stared at him. Without the rush of trying to survive an unknown group of potential enemies, this is the first she got a good look of any of them. First thing she noticed was their feet, they were all bare and had a special wrapping on each foot, leaving only the toes and heels visible. The armor was definitely strange but that is to be expected from a new world. They mostly wore earthen colors of green and brown, probably to help with their surroundings if she were to take a guess. Some were armed with bows and daggers, revealing they specialized in roguish tactics. Others held swords, shields, broadswords, and hammers that looked larger than they were. She also noticed they all had tattoos on their faces. Some wore the same tattoo while others had something different while also varying in colors. 'Oh, Oblivion...did I get tangled up in some freakish cult?' Ash hypothesized. 

One thing she almost completely blew over were their ears. They were pointed and long, but not as long as hers or any elf from Nirn. 'There are elves here? They look almost human!' She will admit they did appear shorter and more lithe than any human she has seen, she just assumed humans were shorter in this world. 'Are there even humans here?'

\------

Kane leaned with his back against the tree with his arms crossed, his staff laid at his feet on the ground within reach. He and his fellow clansmen were all exhausted. No one expected to have this much of a struggle trying and failing multiple times to catch the foreign elf. A few of the ones that managed a close encounter with her have the cuts and bruises to further prove their struggle. Kane's left shoulder still ached from her using a form of magic that threw him to the side so harshly. He has chills remembering the force of it.

He feels a tap on his unhurt shoulder and found it was Borean. Borean is the sharpest shooter of the clan and Kane saw how close his arrow was to hitting the foreign elf's left shoulder multiple times in their pursuit, but she kept dodging them just barely. Kane knew how frustrated he was getting when he kept missing his target which caused his aiming to become more sporadic and rushed. The goddess Andruil's vallaslin fit him perfectly.

"Who did you say this elf was again, Kane?" Borean asked, a hint of a lingering irritation to his words.

Kane shrugged, "I told you already. I haven't a clue."

Borean glanced at her, as did Kane. Her feet were dangling leisurely as if attempting to entertain herself. Her arms were crossed over each other through the holes of the net and he spotted her eyes watching them two specifically. 

Borean glared at her, "As much as I loathe admitting it, that woman is more experienced in battle than any of our warriors and hunters. If she dodges my arrows like a wolf to fire, no wonder she escaped you so easily. You're a mage for Mythal's sake!"

"Well I wasn't the only mage in that tent, Borean! She's one, too, as far as I could tell with what brief time I had with her!"  

Borean's eyes widened, "She is really a mage?"

"Yes, Borean," his words laced with sarcasm, "I guessed that when she had a magical blade across Zhíla's jugular as I walked my marry way into the healer's tent."

"Don't remember you being this sarcastic, mage," Borean hissed. He shoved a finger to Kane's chest, "You should have froze her on the spot. Better yet, kept her tied up so that she wouldn't have harmed any of our clan in the first place once she woke!" He shoved Kane back a step which caused him to stumble a little into the tree. Kane retaliated by shoving his hand away and was about to explain himself when Keeper Deshanna and one of the clans hunters appeared.

"That is enough you two!" she demanded sternly. They immediately turned away but not before glaring at each other one last time. 

Keeper Deshanna turned to one of our head hunters, Liza, the one who was responsible of the trap. "Has our guest settled down by chance?" she asked. "Well...she hasn't made any move to escape, Keeper, if that is what your asking?" Liza replied. Kane stayed near his tree as Deshanna spoke with Liza. She would glance at the woman dangling in the netting from time to time. "Has she...spoken to any of you? Has anyone gotten her name?"

"I don't think she speaks trade, hahren." Kane spoke up. Deshanna looked at him, her eyes widened with surprise, "Does she speak tevene, then? Antivan?"

"No, not even our recent addition from Tevinter knows what she is saying. We believe it could be a dead language." Kane answered.

A thoughtful look came to her face, "A dead language..." she mumbled to herself almost inaudibly, "And you are sure if this, Kane? Liza?" They both nodded simultaneously.

The Keeper turned from them abruptly, a friendly smile appeared on her aged face and looked up to the foreign elf. "No wonder you ran as you did, da'len!" she spoke almost casually to the woman. "Ir abelas, falon. We wish you no harm." He watched as she emphasized her words by shaking her head and arms as a way to communicate her intentions. "Liza, let her down. Gently."

"But, Keeper-" she started.

"Do not question me, da'len."

"Do as the Keeper says, lethallan." spoke a disgruntled Borean surprisingly. Liza untied the rope from around the tree without further question and as gently as she could, lowered the woman to the ground in front of the Keeper. Kane, and everyone around him, tensed when the elf removed the rope from on top and around her. As Deshanna moved to stand near her, the elf immediately leapt to her feet and stood to her full height, thankfully with no lethal intent evident in her posture. 

\------

The old elf standing arms length from her had black, almost grey hair that was tied in a braid. She, too, had a carefully designed tattoo on her face but the red ink seemed to have faded over the years. Ash stood a good few inches taller than her but the elf didn't seem fazed at all by it or intimidated, instead, she had a soft, almost motherly, smile plastered on her weathered face.

The old elf lifted her right arm to the center of her own chest suddenly, "De-sha-nna." she spoke. Ash was caught off guard, she didn't know what she was saying, was it a greeting? She knew the elder could see the question in her face and went to repeat herself, this time slower, "De-sha-nna." and she performed the same gesture of placing her palm to the center of her chest. She then went as far as to place the tips of her fingers to Ash's chest; not completely touching but still getting her point across.

'She's introducing herself, stupid.' she chided herself. "De...shan...na?" she tested the elder's name out. It felt so foreign on her tongue that she had to say it a few times to get it right. Ash heard the other elves snicker, she felt embarrassed and went to pin them with a death glare but Deshanna beat her to it by speaking rather sternly at them in her language. They immediately shut up.

Deshanna turned her attention back to her. Returning her palm to her chest, she spoke, "Deshanna." And then, she proceeded to place the tips of her fingers to her chest. Her wise eyes asked the unanswered question for her: what is your name?

Placing her palm to her chest, she introduced herself, "Ash."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> •Da'len- Little child  
> •Hahren- Elder/Respected elder  
> •Lethallan(f)- used for someone that is familiar with.  
> •Ir abelas, falon.- I am sorry, friend.
> 
> *cracks knuckles* This took a awhile I'll admit. But yay! Our hostile dovah is not so hostile anymore and introductions are finally being arranged :3 I hope those fight scenes were all right. Now it's time for language and magic lessons because our dovah needs them BAD.
> 
> Thx 4 reading <3


	12. The Village, Halla, and Dog

A little over a week has passed since her awakening in Thedas. The tribe's leader, Deshanna, promptly took Ash under her wing with no hesitation after she introduced herself; which didn't take very long for she couldn't speak a word of Thedosian  and was only able to tell the inhabitants her name. They aloud her to clean and wash her clothes by herself in a nearby creek of the mud that clung to her after she was tackled by one of their own. When she was done, Deshanna gave her a new set of clothes to wear while the other set dried. She almost felt bad for dirtying a good set of clothes they gave her of their own volition, but that thought quickly left her once Deshanna offered her a simple meal of two slices of bread infused with a type of nut and an apple. 

Thank the gods the food still looked familiar. The first words she learned from her, in Thedosian, was "food" and "eat".

The rest of the elves in the tribe were still weary of her and kept their distance. Especially the mage that attacked her and the she-elf that Ash put into an arm lock and threatened with her sword. She didn't blame them for their caution. She might've acted the same if that was the first thing someone she didn't know threatened her as such. Deshanna gave Ash her own tent to claim as her own which she set up just on the outskirts of the tribe behind Deshanna's "aravel", as the carriages with red sails were called.

Each morning, since her first day in this world, Deshanna woke her at the crack of dawn and, with no explanation as to why on her part, began teaching her how to speak in their tongue until late afternoon. She chose not to question Deshanna as she was grateful for her willingness to help her and her plight without her feeble attempts to ask on her own. The elf with the staff would always be in the aravel just before her, though. She could still see the fearful caution in his eyes every time she entered and he constantly kept to himself on the other side of the aravel, idlying himself with a book or practicing with simple small spells with either his staff or hands. She didn't know until the other day that his name was Kane after Deshanna tugged on his ear, practically forcing him to introduce himself, much to his chagrin and embarrassment. Deshanna explained to her that it was also he who brought her to their camp whilst she was unconscious; it was a little surprising, considering how scrawny he looked.

Kane was also a student of Deshanna's, from what she observed. Whatever the lesson was, it always sounded important through the tones of the two elves. Ash could not translate the lessons clearly enough since she is still very much a beginner in the Thedosian language, or what Deshanna calls it, Trade. But, she can now make out a few sentences already which surprised Deshanna with her quickly growing vocabulary over the course of just a week. Ash always had a small knack for languages.

"Very good, da'len!" Deshanna praised in her language. Ash's daily lesson has finally ended, so Ash uncrosses her legs and flops onto her back with an audible "oomph". She learned fairly quick that Deshanna is a strict teacher and sometimes ruthless in her methods. But, hey, they do the trick. "You are a fast learner, Ash. Excellent progress."

"I'm...told that. A lot." she spoke in broken Trade. 

Who would have thought that studying under the teachings of both the Greybeards and Paarthurnax, for hours and weeks on end, would've helped her brain build a unique capacity for long lessons.

The elder moves from her place on one of the matts and grabs onto her staff. Her staff is made of a type of dark wood that looks almost black. The body of it is completely straight but the head splits apart like a bunch of branches all twisted together and the center of the cluster at the top is a small dark purple jewel, maybe an amethyst, along with tiny white feathers tied together with a string around the body. Now that she thinks about it, the only elves she has seen use magic were Deshanna and Kane. None of the others seemed to have an inkling of magicka in their blood or the talent. Everyone in the province of Tamriel had the aptitude for it, but it was their choice if they wanted to wield it or not and staves weren't commonly used, either. 

Ash lifts her right hand and conjured lightning to her palm. This world's atmosphere messes with her magic at a irritating level; the simplest of her spells took her a few days to make any progress in the privacy of her own tent. 'I should consult Deshanna about this...' she considered. She began to play with the little sparks, making them weave between her fingers, when suddenly she feels a light thunk on her head, causing her to flinch and the sparks disappear.

"No magic, da'len." Deshanna reprimanded sternly. She insisted that Ash ceased her attempts at tapping into her magic ever since the clan stopped at this village to trade in the central market yesterday. She was also not aloud to enter the town for reasons unknown to her. She didn't like that rule-for it was reserved only to her-since it stopped her from expanding her understanding on how this world's society worked outside of Clan Lavellan.

She rubbed the spot where she got hit, "What is...'da'len'? You never taught me...word."

"Learn one language first. Afterward, if you so wish, learn elvhen, da'len." 

"Daar ni paaz..." she muttered in dovahzul.

Even though the old elf didn't know what she was saying she still directed a good natured smile at Ash, "Follow. We are done for today."

\------

The sun was well over their heads, indicating it was the middle of the day, but the weather was not warm. It was the beginning of winter for the Free Marches and what snow that has fallen was only slush at the bottom of everyone's feet; they all have yet to cover their bare feet into proper shoes, though.

'Must be a cultural thing.' Ash thought as she looked down at the soft-soled leather boots she insisted she wore.

About a half-mile outside the premises of the clan's camp site, was the small village-a human village. It bordered along a lake and had a built-in dock with four small boats anchored along it. The Lavellan Clan was, regretfully, down wind because after a heavy gust was blown, a strong scent of fish came in its wake and bombarded Ash's sensitive nose with it, almost causing her to gag. This is one con to accepting the gift of lycanthropy years ago. But a pro: she can spot people and objects at a farther distance, which she will, more often than not, take for granted. In fact, Ash is spying on the four elves that are entering the village right now. 

They left with an aravel full of weapons, rugs, matts, clothing, armor, and jars filled with herbs. The whole thing was pulled by a single one of their halla. Everything looked hand-made and seemed to border master craftsmanship-especially the bows, swords, and the variety of armor. But, yet again, she saw not one staff among the bounty they intend to sell. "Other people must surely require a staff in this world. Don't they?" Ash muttered in her native tongue as she bit into her red apple.

Losing herself to her own thoughts, she didn't notice a certain creature on four legs walking toward her until it began nibbling on her tattered shirt. Surprised, Ash whirled around and found it was one of the halla, "Oh, hello there." she cooed at it. 

"Shal! Where are you?" 

Ash turned to the voice. It was Darrel, he's the clan's halla herder. Like everyone else except the children, he had a tattoo on his face. It's placed between his eyebrows in a point along the bridge of his nose and then it splits, branching out above his eyebrows, kind of resembling the twisted horns of the halla. The color was baby-blue, "Shal!" 

This is the second time he's lost track of a halla in the week she's been here.

Opting to be a good person, she lead the halla his way with her half eaten apple, "Come on, Shal."

Ash grabbed his attention by clearing her throat, "Found your halla."

Darrel whirled around, his green eyes widened upon seeing her. This is the first time he has heard her speak and this is a first time she willingly spoke to anyone other than Deshanna. "U-um...thank you." he stuttered whilst he lured Shal to his side.

They both went silent. And stood there. Awkwardly.

Ash hopped slightly on the balls of her feet. Looking anywhere but at him and internally worked up the nerve to try talking to these people. She clenched the half-eaten apple in her palm and offered it to Shal the halla, and she took it happily, "You should...watch the halla more. Might lose one on a day," she stayed silent for a moment, "My name is Ash."

After a few seconds of more silence, she began to quickly turn away when she heard a small chuckle, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," more chuckles, "you're just so...intimidating. I've forgotten you're learning to speak trade under our Keeper."

"Well, yes. I-"

"No disrespect, I swear! I've just...heard the gossip about you, is all." Darrel spoke hurriedly, believing her to be insulted if she were to guess. But now she's confused, what gossip?

"What gossip you say, Darrel?" she asked.

The younger elf blushed a little, "You know my-? Oh! Uh, right, well...after you, quite literally, 'fell into our hands', is what Kane said, you used a spell that he never experienced before? I don't know much of magic myself but, I'm guessing it's a big deal for you mages? No offense!"

He spoke quickly but she managed to understand the idea of what he's saying. She is very much aware of the impression she left on these people...and using her gift so recklessly in a world that possibly haven't seen anything like it before is asking for unneeded complications. "I did not try to appear a threat-"

"I even saw first hand that magic you used," he spoke excitedly, nearly bouncing on his toes, "You appeared out of nowhere, real fast like. Right next to me! I was pretty shocked when you did that, especially when you bolted the way you did and fought off my clansmen. I also overheard that Borean couldn't get a shot on you, and he never misses!" Darrel went to ask something else but quickly cut himself off, surprisingly. He began looking over his shoulder, as if looking for anyone who might be listening. With an ounce of courage, he leaned closer, "Is it true you scared Lisael so much, she believed you were the Dread Wolf himself?"

"The what?"

"Ah, Keeper Deshanna hasn't explained our pantheon to you yet, has she? Um...the saying among us Dalish goes like this: Fen'har-"

He was interrupted when suddenly someone pounced on his shoulders, causing him to cry out in surprise, "What's this I hear of you talking about?"

"Nothing, Borean!"

Borean laughed, "No, no, no. You're not as sly as you think, da'halla." He sent a smirk in Ash's direction, "You're conversing with our esteemed guest about that wolf who, obviously, isn't supposed to be talked of lightly." He pat his shoulder as if he did a job well done.

Darrel forcefully got out of Borean's grip and onto the other side of Shal, the halla, "It isn't, at all, what you are thinking, moron."

"We are...talking. That is all, Borean." Ash spoke up, on behalf of Darrel. "Oh? So the demon does speak! I see your making a lot of progress, and in such a short time! I wonder how that is?" he taunted. "I'm a quick learner." was her answer. They were standing close to each other, eye to eye, staring each other down. Greenish-yellow clashing with her silver and black. Ash is certain her and this elf will be at each other's throats from now on. And she is perfectly fine with that. Darrel began shifting on his feet at the corner of her eye, "Borean! Ash! Please, settle down the both of you!" 

A, false, genuine smile crossed Borean's lips as he was the first to back off from their stand off, complying with his wishes, "All right, lethallin, as you say. By the way, you should go take that halla back to the rest of the herd. She's been here long enough, don't you think?" 

"I guess, but-"

Ash caught the shit eating grin on his face, "Stop keeping her waiting, da'halla. No need to worry about me and lil' Ash here. We just need to talk...friendly like. Right, Ash?"

"Stop calling me that!"

Glaring at Borean, she spoke, "Go on, Darrel. We need...talk here."

As reluctant as he was, he began leading Shal away but not before he stopped near Borean and spoke, "Dirthara-ma," then promptly left the two of them. Now that they were alone, he out of no where...held out his hand.

"I believe we got off on the wrong foot. Borean Lavellan, of Clan Lavellan. And you?" He left his palm out for her to shake but she was reluctant to shake hands with someone that was close to cutting her life short, as she recalled from Darrel. "You do know how to shake hands, right? Or is that supposed to be your next lesson with the Keeper, flat-ear?" Every word he spewed had a hint of venom.

Ash could feel her eye twitch. Her patience with this fucker was wearing thin fast, 'Would it be a huge loss if I were to stab your face? Right now? With my sword?' Swallowing her pride just to show this pompous ass up, she shook his hand, firmly.

"Ash Forest-Vale." she gritted out. After introducing herself, a thought hit her like a smack to the face. 'My weapons are in my satchel. Which I haven't seen since...' Ash let go of his hand, "Where is Kane, Borean?" she switched into Tamrielan.

"What?" 

Her frantic mind wouldn't let her translate what she wanted to say, causing her to speak in only her language, "Kane! Where is he?" She latched onto the collar of his armor with both hands, "Where is Kane, hefhah?" she struggled to speak in Trade. 

He breathed something under his breath that she couldn't catch as he stared into her glowing eyes, "I don't know where that idiot is! Let go, flat-ear!" She heard a shuffling behind her and let go of Borean, "Ah, just the mage we were talking about! Did you feel your ears burning, lethallin?" he spoke as he fixed his green and brown leather armor.

"What is going on here?" spoke a frantic Kane. Without hesitating, Ash pounced on top of him, literally, and forced him to the ground, causing Kane to cry out in pain, "Ack! Why?" he cried.

"Fen'harel's little minion here either has a bone to pick with you, or it's a special mating ritual for demons. Hey, Kane: do demons do this before they ravage their victims? Willing or no?" Borean spoke while he crouched, leaning near the struggling Kane, attempting to hold in his snickers.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" yelled Kane, flabbergasted.

Ash didn't listen to either of them as she demanded, "Where is my bag?"

\------

The trio of elves-Ash, Kane, and Borean-all migrated to Kane's aravel that was ironically near the healer's tent that Ash woke up in. Ash had to help patch the hole she created after her little...escape. 

"This is it, right?" Ash changed her attention back to Kane as he hopped out of the aravel. He held the familiar grey leather satchel by its strap to her, "I kept it with me while you were out cold. I opted to give it back to you once you were to wake up and...deemed trustworthy by Keeper Deshanna. It was empty when I found it, I promise. Your original clothes are in here, though." She latched onto it and held it close. It felt nice having this bag at her side after so long.

Borean spoke up from his laying on a nearby flat boulder, "You mean to say the flat-ear attacked you the way she did over an empty satchel?  Elgar'nan-enaste, you must be joking?" 

"Do you take me as someone that would steal and lie?" Kane opened his arms to exaggerate his question.

"No, of course not. That is my job. I take you as someone that would run from a fight, though."

"Still? Still you hold that against me?"

Ash turned away from their bickering and opened her satchel's latch then proceeded to place it on the ground. "Meeko? Come out!" she called in her tongue.

"I think the flat-ear has gone crazy," she heard Borean remark, "She's talking to the bag." 

Ash glared at Borean, "Not bag. Friend."

"I rest my case."

Kane inched forward to her side and peered over her shoulder, "Who are you talking to?" 

Ash ignored him, "Meeko, come!" And suddenly her vision was replaced by dirty-blonde fur as she was tackled to the ground. Meeko hopped off of her and barked happily to her, his tail wagging and shaking his whole body, "Good boy, Meeko!" Her happiness over took her as she hugged the mutt close, attempting to hold back the tears. Ash didn't notice how lonely she felt until after something familiar was back at her side. 

\------

Out of nowhere, a large mass of fur ran out of Ash's satchel. Frightened, Kane fell back onto his rump and scooted away from the beast, "What is that? How did that come out of that?" he demanded the elvhen woman but she was completely ignoring him, opting to talk to the furry beast in her own language. To his left, he stopped himself from laughing, he saw Borean fall off of his boulder and onto his back, shocked from the creature as well.

"There you guys are! I was just-oh, a dog!" Darrel exclaimed as he jogged to them. 'That's a dog?' Kane wondered credulously. Stopping near Ash, who was still hugging the dog, "Is it yours, Ash?" he asked, curious. 

She turned to him, "Yes."

"Wow, I love dogs! What kind is he? I've never seen his kind before, ever!" Darrel was getting more and more excited. Like a child discovering snow for the first time. Kane heard Borean grunt as he struggled to get up from his little tumble, "How was the fall?" Kane asked innocently.

"Oh, shut up! What is that thing?" Kane noticed Borean was struggling to find a weapon. "It's just a dog, Borean. Seems it belongs to Ash. No need to get so frazzled." Kane lifted himself off the ground and dusted the grass and melting snow off of his trousers.

"I thought you said that bag was empty. Apparently, not!" Borean got up and brushed himself off as well. After Borean calmed down, relatively speaking, both he and Kane approached the two elves playing with the dog and conversing, Darrel more so.

"Where were you hiding him?" Darrel asked as he scratched the dog behind the ear. A dopey smile was on the dog's face and his eyes were closed, his tail wagged furiously.

"In bag." was her blunt answer.

"Wow!" 

Kane took his chance to try and elaborate with the ever increasing anomaly that is Ash, "How did your dog even-"

"Meeko." she interrupted.

"What?"

Ash rolled her eyes, as if he were incompetent, "He...name is Meeko." She pointed to the dog.

"Right. Um...how did Meeko fit in your bag?" He gestured to the said object laying on the ground, "There couldn't be enough room, is there?"

"Unless, it's a special 'on-the-go' kind of dog?" commented Borean. Kane looked at him, as did Darrel, and Ash-even Meeko. Borean swallowed, "Creators, it was a joke!" Ash gestured for them to lean forward, like she was telling a secret. "He fits because...how do you say...magicka!" she lifted her hands to their faces and wiggled her fingers, emphasizing "magicka".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> •Daar ni paaz...-That's not fair...  
> •Da'halla-Little halla  
> •Lethallin(m)-used for someone that is familiar with.  
> •Dirthara-ma- May you learn (used as a curse).  
> •Hefhah-Idiot, moron, etc.  
> •Da'len-Little child  
> •Elgar'nan-enaste- The All-Father's blessing.
> 
> Hence the start of a few beautiful friendships for Ash :3 and Meeko made an astounding entrance~ The veil is still taking some getting used to for the Dragonborn in this chapter and the language barrier is ever decreasing little by little!
> 
> Thx 4 reading~


	13. From Who to Where

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IM NOT DEAD!!!!!

It was early in the morning when Ash's silver eyes finally opened. Completely wrapped in the warmth of thick, soft, furs the way she was, she awoke very drowsy and reluctant to escape her little cocoon. Meeko also lay curled on top of her feet, asleep himself, which added to her increased drowsiness. Groaning and giving herself words of encouragement for a few minutes, Ash shrugged off the warm furs and lifted herself up using her elbows. She felt the cold hit her in an instant, making her shiver and cover her bare arms. 

Her movement awoke Meeko and he lifted himself off of her legs and then left the tent. Ash dressed herself into her set of fur armor consisting of: a light brown, sleeveless, cotton shirt with a matching pair of loosely-fit leather pants, her soft-soled leather boots lined inside with brown fox fur, leather gauntlets stitched on the outside with white wolf fur, fingerless black leather gloves, and a white wolf's pelt as a mantle to cover most of her body. It's arms tied together in front of her with thick string so as not to fall off her, its hind legs also tied around her waist as a form of belt, and its head to be used as a hood. 

Its fur used to glisten white but has become a bit dirtied over the years. Placing her satchel over her shoulders, she exited her tent and her sight was immediately met with white, for the snow has finally begun to stick to the ground and is no longer slush. 

In the distance, Ash can see the dawn peek behind the distant blue mountains. As she exhales, she can see her breath in the dim light. 

"Ah, good, you're awake. Glad I didn't have to wake you again." Liza spoke whilst sitting on an old stump, tying the string onto her bow. Ash yawned as Liza spoke and began to rub her eyes. "Did not sleep well enough. Strange dream again." she replied.

Liza pat Meeko's head as he trotted up to her and gave him a strip of dried meat. "You mentioned once that you've had magic for quite some time. Would've thought a mage with that span of experience will have gotten used to them by now."

"Um…"

"Must be different for everyone, right?" she chuckled.

Right. Mages and dreaming. Something that she would have very much appreciated of Akatosh to, the very least, tell her about before she leapt headfirst into the unknown! It's like jumping into a raging sea before learning to swim. Ash three days ago consulted with Kane about how when she dreams, she feels aware. Too aware. When she sleeps, she doesn't feel like she's dreaming at all. Like she is awake but the surrounding reality looked…morphed. Distorted. Kane seemed almost baffled when she asked him this and she thought it was something he hadn't heard of before and she was only freaking him out. But it was quite the contrary, for he said it was "the most common thing mages experience". The only reason he looked so surprised was that she didn't know or have even heard about the "Fade", the place that mages go to when they "dream". Kane then took it upon himself to explain the Fade to her in great detail and the vast range of dangers that inhabit it. It's also where this world's magic manifests from.

The way Kane described what it was like to her, she couldn't help but find a few similarities to Oblivion back on Nirn, for her conjuration spells work in a similar fashion.

The dangers being demons. They come in an array of forms: Sloth, Desire, Despair, Envy, Rage, Fear to name a few. The most dangerous being the Pride Demon. And what tops it off about these creatures is they pray on mages that they deem as "weak-willed" and try to temp them into "letting them in". To share the mage's body and use them as a vessel to reach the other side of the Veil-the only thing separating reality from the Fade-and ultimately possessing the mage in the process and becoming an Abomination. 

Kane mentioned, though, that there are also spirits that make up a small portion of the inhabitants of the Fade. "They are physical entities of the Fade but they aren't necessarily bound to one form", as he explained. She learned they were scarce entities that are capable of speech and they liked to mimic or recreate memories caught within the Fade. Spirits are also affiliated with their own purposes: Love, Duty, Faith, Hope, Justice are a few of them. But Kane warned that a spirit can also try to persuade the visitor to "let them in", as well, however rarely. He said they could sound genuine in their offers and would want to experience what a physical form is. But the end result is still the same: an Abomination.

Even though she got over her restless nights, due to the effects of Lycanthropy, years ago. Now, she has to survive an inner struggle awake and asleep. Ash has never been so tired.

"Yes. Different." Ash's mind was still muddled with sleep so her speech was a little slow.

Suddenly, her field of vision went dark and a weight had fallen upon her head. "Interesting choice of armor, flat-ear! You live up to your reputation yet." She heard the familiar mocking tone of Borean in front of her. Her vision returned as he lifted the snout with his index finger, "Fen'harel's little minion indeed. Careful," he leaned down closer to her face, teeth showing as he grinned, "you might catch his attention and then snatch you in the dark."

"If I were blessed enough your god just might. So I won't have to see your ugly mug so early in the morning." she snarked. Borean laughed and dropped the wolf's snout with a flick of his finger and it landed over Ash's eyes again. "Ah, you are always such a good sport."

"Will you two ever stop? For once?" Liza groaned. 

Ash lifted the hood off her head and back onto her shoulders. "He started it." she mumbled.

\------

After waiting for three more of their hunting party to appear, they all ventured away from the clan and the tree line and into a vast rocky, snow-covered, plain. Winter had officially begun to claim the land within its shivering grasp. The tall pine trees now completely covered in snow and hanging icicles. Streams have been frozen over and had gone completely silent. And it had become easier to follow animal tracks, all within a span of a month. With this change, the elves had traded in their foot wrappings for shoes and near knee-high boots. Good. Ash was afraid they would go all winter without covering their feet from the bitting cold. 

She had once seen a group of Nords walk stark naked into a blizzard once and they didn't bat an eye to the freezing temperatures. She never knew if they were drunk or not, but it was a sight to see.

Kane, surprisingly, was given leave to join their hunting party as well, but he didn't seem too thrilled about it when he caught up with them. It was Deshanna's wish that he accompanied them incase something were to go awry. She hadn't bothered to ask the technicalities of what they were hunting, Ash was too overjoyed at the prospect of a hunt. Her inner wolf howled with glee when Elion, the head hunter, gave her the offer to join them.

They've been following four sets of large hoof prints for a little less than an hour. Ash would have guessed a type of deer but the hoof marks were too wide spread apart and didn't leave much of an indention to where the two toes should be. The prints were larger, yes, but they were too shallow, like they might be made for the snow. Kind of like snow-shoes. But they did remind her a little of a cows hoof print, only bigger. They haven't been covered with any new snow yet, so it seemed they were catching up to the herd. 

Everyone in the group ceased their casual banter when Elion called behind his back for everyone to quiet down. After ten minutes, Ash began to hear grunting and huffing coming from behind a large outcropping of stone. Elion signaled all of them forward and they all crouched behind the large structure, careful not to make much noise because of the snow. 

They all proceeded to prepare themselves, taking out their bows, arrows and even daggers and a sword. Ash began to get more curious when Lael resorted to using a sword. "Why do you need a sword? What is being hunted?" she asked, flabbergasted. Meeko began to get anxious next to her as he started to wine. Elion turned to her, "Druffalo." 

"What is a druffalo?"

"Climb up and find out." Borean spoke, a smile evident in his voice. "All I'm telling you, flat-ear, is they're pretty big."

She huffed in his direction, her breath creating a small cloud, "Oh, is that so?" she quipped. Elion waved in their direction, "That's actually a good idea. Yes, Ash, climb up top. You can give us a vantage point from up there." He looked behind her and gestured with his chin,"Kane will accompany you."

"What?" Kane hissed. "I can't climb that! The rocks are slick with ice if you hadn't noticed, Elion. If I slip you'll have one less mage to cover your flank if something goes wrong."

Borean patted Kane's shoulder, "Then don't slip." He then flicked Kane's ear which made him jolt in irritation. Elion spoke, "You'll be fine. Ash will watch your every step; she climbs well." As he said that, the group began to disperse. Elion then faced Ash, "When we get into position, I'll signal you. Your part is to get one of the druffallo away from the rest. I've seen you use magic so you will need to act as a barrier between our target and the rest. I don't care how you do it. Just make it happen, got it?"

Elion was a rather straight-to-the-point person, she noticed.

"I got it."

~~~~~~

Borean did not lie when he said Druffalo were big creatures. They easily resembled a cow, but their heads and shoulders were much brawnier and they had a hump on their shoulders. The beasts sported large tuffs of fur going from their heads toward the middle of their back and underbelly. A pair of pearly white horns sprouted from the sides of their brown, fluffy heads and a pair of tusks protruding from their mouths to match. The way their muscles moved and flexed easily revealed the great power they possessed in their legs as well.

And they definitely get pissed when you come near them.

~~~~~~

"You speak druffalo are farm animals?" she asked breathlessly on top of a fallen tree, whilst she watched Borean, Elion and the two others of the Lavellan Clan skin and clean the carcass of the once surprisingly formidable creature. "'You say'", Kane corrected next to her. He took out a cloth from one of the pockets in his pack and begun to clean the blood that got onto the blade at the end of his staff. The brawny creature would have crushed Kane when he had his backed turned scaring off the rest of the druffallo's herd. Ash had to scream at him to get out of the way and when he saw what she meant, he used a form of ice magic that quickly got him away from the stampeding druffalo, leaving a clear sheen of ice in his wake and a new gash was left in what used to be the creatures left eye. Kane's spell reminded her much of the Whirlwind Sprint shout and it intrigued her. So-with her need to learn any advantageous spell within her grasp-she made sure to make a note on asking Kane about it later.

"Yes. They are actually native more down in the south; within the grasp of Ferelden. It's rare to find them this far north," he stopped cleaning his blade until it gleamed in the sun. Looking down at it, she could see his blue eyes staring back at her, as well as seeing the reflection of her form sitting atop the tree trunk. Seeing her reflection on that blade…it felt like it was forcing her to acknowledge the oddities between her and Kane's people. The elves of Thedas.

Ash knows she looks strange to them. Different. Alien even. But they are the ones that look the strangest to her. She remembers her first encounter with them and none of their features screamed mer on the spot. Their eyes were round whilst hers were slanted. Their pupils and irises were larger while hers were smaller. Their cheek-bones were less prompt while hers more so. She downright thought them to be human if it weren't for the trademark pointed ears to give them away. 

No one; not Deshanna, Kane, heck, even Borean never asked about how different she looked to them. Ash would occasionally catch the elves in the clan give her odd looks when everyone would eat together during her first week or so in Thedas, but they never acted upon their curiosity. She has an inkling it's Keeper Deshanna's doing, but not sure if she should be grateful about it or if it's Deshanna that is planning to question her in private.

But if it does come down to the latter, then she'll need to start forming a backstory: where she's from, family…

'Or I could just pull the amnesia card…' Getting too lost into her plans of deception, Ash didn't notice the projectile aimed at her head until it hit her smack in the face, sending her falling back off the tree's trunk and into the snow, caught in a spluttering daze. 

"Creators, Borean, I told you not to do that!" she heard Kane yell though he sounded a bit muffled with the snow blocking her hearing. But, unfortunately, it wasn't enough to block out the loud cackle of laughter coming from the voice she knows could only belong to Borean. Ash unwillingly started to feel her blood boil. "She left herself wide open, how could I not?"

With a growl, she lifted herself up with her arms and pierced her assailant with a cold glare. "You will regret that, Borean." she hissed his name. "Oh, boo with you and your threats! We're heading back and I only wanted to get your attention, which I successfully accomplished." he gloated before turning his back to her. 

"So quick to show your back to a wolf aren't you, hefhah."

"Oh? Did I ruffle your fur too much, da'fen?" He turned to face her but jolted away when he saw how close she was. The shock caused him to lose his footing and fell ungracefully into the snow. Ash, feeling victorious, walked over him and headed toward the others who waited with unamused expressions. 

"You can be a quiet little minx when you want to be, I see!" she heard him call. 

"I also have your daggers."

"What?"

\------

She wakes to the smell of smoke and the feel of gravel beneath her. 'Something isn't right…' was her first thought. Rolling onto her side, and then her back, with a grunt she lifts her upper body into a sitting position. Finally she opens her eyes, but what she sees is only smoke, rock and…green.

Lots of green. A sickly green.


	14. Caged and Confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our Dragonborn wakes up and is not happy with her current situation

Drip.

"Mm..."

Drip.

'What is that?' She heard the familiar tap again. 'Water?' Not opening her eyes but slowly becoming more aware, she waits for the tap again and this time hearing it echo, 'Cave. Cave...I'm in a cave. Wait, no. Caves have drafts. Sithis...am I underground?' Opening her eyes, she doesn't see anything for a moment but when she attempts to move she is immediately stunted by heavy shackles around her wrists and her legs felt numb from her uncomfortable position on her knees on top of the cold stone floor. 

Slowly, as her eyes adjust, she can see a few steps leading to a wooden door in front of her. 'Heavily bolted...' she took note. Out of nowhere she hears the unsheathing of weapons around her, making her ears twitch. On instinct, she encases herself in a protective lightning cloak. It was all Ash could do in her situation. 

Hearing one of her assailants gasp to her left in pain from getting caught in one of the volts, she looked over her shoulder, glaring at the armed guards, "Any of you bastards comes near me and I swear-" her threat suddenly cut short from a sudden rush of white hot pain shoot from her left hand and up her arm, "Argh!" she cried, and her cloak went down. 

"She's a fucking mage," she managed to hear one hiss. "All of you back up! Go get the seeker, now." The guard within a heart beat left to get their "seeker". But she was in too much shock to care. Her rage building, she faced the one that spoke, "What did you fucking do to me?" she spat. "Answer my-" she didn't get an answer before he rushed her and threw her onto her side with a grunt. He got up, practically towering over her, and pointed his sword. "Stay silent, prisoner!" he bellowed. 

As she lay on her side, she saw what caused her pain. It was a scar. But it was green and it glowed as it ran horizontally across her palm. She felt a lump in her throat staring at it.

"Sithis..." 

Finally, the old wooden door slammed open, blinding her for a moment before two figures blocked it. The asshole sheathed his sword and then yanked Ash back onto her knees before putting his fist to his heart. A salute.

"Lady Cassandra," he addressed one of them. The rest followed suit and proceeded to take their stations by the wall. 

As the door closed, Ash saw the two figures to be two human women. One had short black hair with some form of braid wrapped around her head. Buy how she held herself, Ash knew she was a soldier. If her stance didn't give it away then her armor would, for it looked heavy and sturdy enough protection. Armed with a gleaming sword and shield, she is battle ready. Her face was lightly tanned and bared a long and deep scar running along the left side of her jaw which no doubt holds an interesting story behind it. Ash noticed the deep fiery rage in the woman's dark eyes. They dared Ash to make any hint of hostility.

The women behind her was clad in chain-mail and kept a hood over her head. Ash could not see her face well but saw a few wisps of red hair escape the figures hood. Easily a rouge if she were to guess. Her movements gave her away as well. Her movements were fluid, almost calculated and she blends near completely with the shadows in the torch lit room. 'Must have been a thief at one point. Spy, perhaps?,' she smiled under her mask. Takes one to know one.

Both women looked to be similar in height but the red-head might be a little taller than the warrior.

As they enter, they began to circle the woman chained to the ground like wolves picking their next meal. An air of authority surrounded the two as they eyed her. Ash tensed. What did she do? 

She can feel the warrior's presence at her back. "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now," her voice was heavily accented. It reminded her of the Nevarran merchants and travelers the clan would come across. 'Oh, Kane, Meeko...the Lavellans. Divines, the Conclave!' A chill ran down her whole body. "Why am I hear?" her question was so soft her interrogator didn't hear it. Warrior-lady continued, "The conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead," she paused but then Ash felt a pressure on top of her hood. "Except for you." And she yanked Ash's nightingale hood off along with her mask, revealing her Bosmer features and silver and black eyes. 

"Answer me, elf." She was facing her now but Ash missed the hint of surprise in the human's eyes. 'What? What is she talking about? I was just there!' She was ready to defend herself. Ash was about to respond but not a sound escaped her lips before a horrifying thought dared cross her mind, 'What of Kane?' She remembers leaving him at their camp at dawn when her enhanced eyesight spotted a handful of suspicious characters slink their way into the side doors of the great building that was to house the events of the conclave. They were well a few miles away from the conclave, no where near the two factions of mages and templars so it should have been impossible for him to get caught in any conflict! 

She needs details. Now.

"What did I do to for you to accuse me? Just when did this happen?" she surprised herself as her voice struggled to stay strong. Ash caught a flash of Warrior-lady's pent up anger reaching a boiling point at her cluelessness. Warrior-lady replied, but with an definite edge, "You have been unconscious for only a few hours. How and why these events happened is for me to find out," she snatched her hand with the glowing scar, "Explain this." As if on cue, the mark flared up again with the same scorching pain and shocks up her arm. She tried not to show her pain but a moan managed to escape. Warrior-lady threw Ash's hand back in disgust. "You mean to tell me that you didn't place this...thing on me?" she yelled in confusion. 

"Of course not!" Warrior-lady scoffed, angered by the accusation. Ash can feel her chest rumble with a forming growl caused by her rising anger. 'Hircine, not now, not now. I swear.' Choking back the wolfish growl, she retaliated, "Then I don't know what to tell you. 'Cause I sure didn't do this to myself willingly, Daarznu!" 

Warrior-lady snapped and grabbed Ash by the collar, "You're lying!" she yelled. She couldn't stop the growl from escaping when suddenly the red-head advanced from the shadows, hauling the woman away from Ash, "We need her, Cassandra." she voiced. 'So that's her name!' Ash was just getting used to Cassandra's nickname.

But Ash was getting tired of this. They were going around each other in circles; neither one knowing shit about her glowing hand or the Conclave's destroyance. She opted to get straight to the point, "So what happens now?" she asked the red-head.

"Do you remember what happened? How this began?" Miss. Rouge questioned in a lighter tone than of Cassandra.

She delved as far as her memory aloud, but it always ended with her in that strange place. "I remember just running, creatures were chasing me but..." suddenly she remembers a figure, but they are too hazy for her to make out, "I...think there was a woman with me."

"A woman?"

"She tried to help me, I think. She reached out but then..." and blank, that's as far as she could go. She really despised this amnesia for it's not helping her at all. The red-head pondered this information and seemed to want to ask more but Cassandra cut her off.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I've heard enough. I'll bring her to the rift." Leliana looked down at the prisoner one last time before leaving. Cassandra advanced toward Ash then, on one knee, begun to relieve her of the heavy shackles. 

"Tell me: what happened?" Ash asked, trying to get what answers she could. She didn't have time to rub her wrists where the cuffs cut in before they were replaced with rope.

"It...would be better to show you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with a new chapter! All I’m gonna say for the next chapter is, the Anchor is going cause some…limitations on our smol angry Dov~
> 
> Thx for reading <3
> 
> Translations:  
> •Daarznu- clueless


	15. The Wrath of Heaven

Cassandra led Ash up two flights of stairs and maneuvered through a twisting hallway decorated with holding cells and lit by only torch light for a time before they rounded another corner which led to a longer flight of stairs before they reached the first window letting in natural light. She considered, for a split second, making a break for that window. She even made a scenario before -hand just how she would do it; she'd twist real fast, opposite of the warrior's grip, and kick her away in the gut to stun her as Ash dashed for that window; grabbing ahold of her own cape to cover herself as Ash crashes through the glass using her whirlwind sprint shout. But, alas, she had her reasons to think of that before-hand, for when they neared it Ash saw it wasn't glass at all but vertical metal bars closely built together so no one could even try to wedge themselves through them. Ash couldn't see much of what's outside either due to large rocks and tree trunks blocking the view from the small opening. The warrior, Cassandra, seemed to grow more on edge the closer they got to the door at the end of the large hallway, she tightened her grip on the prisoner's elbow. Whether it was just nerves or making sure she doesn't try anything, Ash couldn't tell.

From the cold and dank smelling dungeon cells to the scent of lit candles, incense, old parchment, wood and warmth greeted Ash as they exited through the door. It was a grand room with pillars and arches reaching the ceiling; paintings decorated a few choice spots upon the walls, none of which she was at all familiar with. Cassandra led her further in toward an equally grand double door. People hugged near the walls and crowded around pillars. All the men and women were garbed in red and white robes decorated with a golden half sun on their chests; some reached to the floor when others reached to their knees revealing knee-high leather boots. Only a few wore these ridiculous looking vertical red and white hats. 'I'm being held under a fucking chantry? What happened at the Conclave?'

All of them hushed when they passed by and starred at them. Starred at her. Others didn't bother to hide their scowls. She faced forward, away from their looks of loathing, and the guard opened the heavy door.

The light reflecting off the snow hit her first, making her squint until her sensitive eyes adjusted, and then the chill of the wind but it wasn't that that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. It was the sight and state of the sky. The clouds swirled together like a great big storm. Like a vortex. A vortex of bright green. And what seemed like a tornado yet wasn't was a snaking tendril of more green connecting to the bright center of the vortex in the distance. Large rocks floated with it. 

'That is definitely not Sovngarde. But...wow.' She couldn't help but be momentarily awestruck. She's seen and experienced too much to be truly fearful, just concerned as a substitute.

Not noticing Cassandra letting her go, she walked a few paces in front of Ash and began speaking, "We call it The Breach. It's a massive rift that grows larger with each passing hour," she turned to Ash again, "It's not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave." Ash finally looked back at her, skeptical, "Are you certain it was an explosion? Usually, when something goes boom nearly everything catches fire and is destroyed and not...this." Apparently, Cassandra didn't appreciate her sarcasm in this. "You aren't in the clear at all, elf. Lives were lost in this tragedy," her voice shook suddenly but she cleared it quickly, Ash still caught it, "I wouldn't be speaking so lightly in your position. You are who we are holding accountable for this." 

"I'm more in the dark about this than you are, Seeker Cassandra. Just trying to get the facts. I meant no harm by it." She knows when to back down when an argument isn't in her favor. She's practically digging her own grave going on like this. Cassandra's face lost it's edge for a moment until she spoke again, "An explosion is all that we can go off of, yes. We don't know who did this but unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world." 

Ash visibly sighed. "Ugh, but you're grasping at stra-" A loud crackle and groan sounded from the Breach and suddenly the mark on her hand flared again, this times much worse, "Argh!" She fell to her knees, cradling her arm for it felt like it was on fire and she internally begged for it to stop. She heard Cassandra's footsteps rush toward her and felt the warrior's presence in front of her but she was too focused on the pain and the green sparks it spewed out. Her heart was racing and her throat became tight. She wanted to scream her head off. She wanted to hurl. 'This is not mine! This is not mine! This is-"

A hand was placed on her shoulder. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads," it finally stopped pulsing and Ash finally faced her,"...and it is killing you." Ash's breathing was still heavy before she yelled, "Nid draaf! Di haal fraan med nii lost nahlii krumon vau!" Cassandra's eyes widened when she yelled in a different tongue. She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her for a moment when the prisoner's eye's seemed to have turned to slits and her silver eyes seemed to have turned a shade brighter. "What?" Cassandra asked. Ash calmed down from her explosion of rage and pain, "It's...nothing. I said that I felt 'just peachy' with this whole...thing," she gestured to her marked hand. "But what does this sus thing have to do with that big hole in the sky?"

"It may be the key to stopping all of this. But there isn't much time." 

"To doing what exactly, Cassandra?" The seeker was obviously becoming off put with how much Ash was using her name. "Closing the Breach. Whether that's possible is something we will discover shortly." she said. Ash was still skeptical, "Oh? Because that is green and this is green? What makes you think the mark won't just make it worse?"

"We'll just have to find out when we get there, won't we? It's our only chance, and yours." Damn. She got her there, surprisingly.

Ash looked to The Breach and glared at Cassandra. "You still think I'm responsible for all this. To myself." she stated, her words held bite. "Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong," she said but uncertainty was beginning to ebb away at her truth. Ash needed to keep this up, for her sake in case this somehow was her fault, it couldn't have been her doing could it? "And if it turns out it wasn't me who did it?" She fixed her position from her knees onto the balls of her feet. Cassandra shifted her position as well so as she can keep a head taller than her, "Someone is. And you are our only suspect. You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way." Cassandra's ultimatum was final. 

Well, as Akatosh stated she was to fulfill her role in this world; she pretty much has no choice on what she was to do. She needs to know what happened to Kane and her faithful companion, Meeko. Plus, if this world were to go to shit because she didn't help, she'd burn down with it and with this ticking time bomb on her hand it would kill her anyway if what Cassandra says is true. 

After an entire year of waiting for what Akatosh said was going to happen in this world, waiting for something to "shake the very sky", this is it.

"Alright, then." Ash decided.

"Then...?" Cassandra questioned. "I'm helping. And I'm willing to give what it takes. Neither of us want to die, do we?" Ash jested. Cassandra stayed silent as she nodded, seemingly in agreement with Ash.

~~~~~~

She led Ash through a town. Through crowds of people. Like in the chantry, they all stared and glared at Ash. Cassandra began to speak in a hushed tone, "They have decided your guilt. They need it." Holding onto Ash by her shoulder she led her to the outskirts of the town toward another gate, "The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, Head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers." And like the people, her voice held the edge of sorrow, akin to when you lose someone close. "It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead."

"Open the gate for Seeker Cassandra!" yelled a guard near the gate.

Still holding onto her, they walked through the gate which lead onto a stone bridge. It was not a sight for the easily sickened. Dead bodies laid in rows next to each other, some in bags, some not and some are barely recognizable. Priests and priestess' gave prayers to the dead and to those still living. The aftermaths of a disaster. "We lash out like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves. As she did. Until The Breach is sealed." Cassandra finished her mantra and let go of her grip on Ash and walked around her. She took out a knife but Ash stopped her, "No need, thanks." She summoned fire and lead it up her arms until it burnt the ropes to ash. "You might need that knife, don't want it dulled."

"I'll admit I forgot you were a mage." Ash walked ahead but nodded to let Cassandra know she heard her, "Everyone says that. Now, I believe you should lead from here." Cassandra reached her side, "When this is over, there will be a trial," the two women exited the second set of doors on the other side of the bridge, "I can promise no more."

'That shouts possible death penalty, don't it?' But Ash didn't plan to stay that long for that to happen. 

As the large wooden doors shut behind them, Ash rounded on Cassandra, "Well then, if by the end of this we survive but I'm being dragged away, let me introduce myself," she held out her hand, "Ash Forest-Vale." Cassandra evidently grew flustered at the sudden introduction from the short elf and didn't know how to handle it. Ash waited for the returned hand shake but didn't get it, Cassandra walked past her. "Cassandra Pentaghast." she spoke, "Come. Our destination is not far." 

~~~~~~

There were burning crates and wagons all along the trail they followed to their destination. As they moved closer toward the Breach, soldiers ran away from it. "Maker, it's the end of the world!" She heard one scream in a passing group. Again, the Breach crackled and groaned, causing her mark to react in sync and drag her to her knees, the pain just as unbearable as the last. Cassandra reached her side again and helped her to her feet, "The pulses are getting faster now." She patted her shoulder and pushed Ash to move along. "The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face."

Ash rubbed at her marked palm, ever growing more weary of another pulse, "Just so we're on topic: how did I survive the blast?" They both jogged under an archway leading to another bridge on top of a frozen lake, numerous chantry soldiers accompanied it. "They say you...stepped out of a rift. Then fell unconscious." The two furthered along the bridge, their pace steady, "They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was." 

Before Ash took another step her ears twitched and caught the sound of something large hurdling toward them, Cassandra kept moving forward. "Get back!" She latched onto Cassandra by her collar and yanked her back before a large meteor like rock hurled into the bridge. It caused everything and everyone else to be destroyed and Ash and Cassandra fell upon the bridge's ruin and onto the ice. Both were unscathed but Ash saw another rock fall from the Breach, in its green flame it was hurled at them and crashed into a rock side and onto the thick ice, completely destroyed a few paces in front of them. In its wake left a black ooze like substance, but as the two woman picked themselves up, a tall creature with a hooded head and long sharp claws popped out of the ground like a daisy. Only this daisy let out a loud shrill cry when it spotted them. 

Ash didn't want those claws close to her so she didn't hesitate, "Yol toor shul!" Just as she uttered the last word of power, not only did nothing happen, but her chest and throat grew tight and the mark pulsated again, she started to grow hot all over. "Stay behind me!" Cassandra ordered before she confronted the daedric creature head on, her sword slashing and her shield banging. 

At that, she began to hate the woman for ordering her what to do. "F...fuck that." Ash stopped cradling her marked hand and shakily got back on her feet. In a flash, she summoned her bound bow and pulled back the string, lining up the three deadly arrows with its target and let it go. They flew and flew until finally they hit...and the second daedric creature fell before it could fully get itself out of the ground and receded. 

Cassandra ran her sword through the daedric entity then yanked it out with a loud squelch. It cried and it too receded back into the ground. She began to feel feverish.

Sitting down in a nearby drift of snow, still gripping her summoned bow, she spoke to Cassandra, "I think that's all of 'em." Cassandra rushed at her and pointed her sword to Ash, "Release your bow. Now." She ordered her, again. Ash really hated being ordered around at the moment and was getting ticked off fast. She looked at Cassandra dead in the eye, "I saved your life right now, Seeker. I can bloody summon my weapons again if needed." Ash let her weapon return to the void as she finished her sentence, "In fact I didn't need that to help you in the first place." Ash grabbed a fist full of snow and placed it on her head, it felt nice. "I'm sorry I got...irritated."

"What are you?" Cassandra's voice was on edge, she didn't let down her sword. Ash was confused, "What are you talking about? I'm me." 

"Your eyes have changed. What magic is this, apostate? They are brighter and the pupils are...cat-like." She shoved her sword closer, almost reaching Ash's nose to which she slowly raised her hands up in peace. Cassandra continued, "Are you an Abomination?" she almost shouted the accusation. "What do you mean they're still...no! I swear, I'm not!" Ash pleaded. Cassandra glared at her and stayed silent, as if saying the truth of Ash's word. "You have to trust me." Ash said again, this time softly. 

"Give me one reason why I should trust you."

"Because I'm the only shot you have in stopping the Breach."

Cassandra stayed silent, then she heaved a heavy sigh, "You're right. You don't need a staff but you should keep yourself armed. I cannot protect you," she sheathed her sword and turned away further up the path. But like an afterthought she faced Ash again, "I should remember you agreed to come willingly." Ash rose from her snow drift and caught up to Cassandra, "I'll take that as an apology." She grunted and handed Ash five pocket sized bottles. "Take these. Maker knows what we might face. You don't look well so I suggest you take one now." She began to sound like a mother hen but Ash heeded her suggestion and popped one down. She shouldn't have done that for it tasted bitter and a dry after taste made her cough, but she felt her fever recede slightly.

~~~~~~

Throughout the valley, the two came upon groups of the creatures they faced on the frozen lake. Some were hooded while others appeared as green translucent spirits. Both her and Cassandra dispatch every one they came across. None of the times did Ash attempt to Shout after what happened on the lake. She asked Cassandra numerous times on their course if her eyes had changed back, all of which she replied "no". This troubled Ash greatly. Cassandra asked once about her eye dilemma, to which Ash simply stated it was a topic of discussion for a later date, if they had one, and Cassandra asked no more. 

As she shoved her bound sword into the last demon, with a quick twist she yanked it out and the creature receded into the ground whence it came, leaving behind a few gold pieces, oddly enough, and she gladly collected. To her left, Cassandra called her over to a long flight of stairs up a mountainous hill side. "We are close, quickly!" Further up the steps, Ash could hear yelling and the clashing of metal and the scent of fire. Seems Cassandra finally heard it, too, "We're getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting."

"Who's fighting?"

"You'll see soon. We must help them."

And soon they did. Above the group fighting, too, was a mini version of the chaos in the sky. It looked more crystalized down here hovering above everyones heads. Both her and Cassandra leaped into the fray; sword, magic and arrows blazing. Ash set her sights on a particular wraith aiming for a mage with his back turned. Raising her ward with a snap, it stopped the wraiths energy ball from hitting him and shot her own fireball with a loud crash killing it. Another of the hooded ones raised a hand to swipe at Cassandra. Thinking fast, with a flame and lightning spell in each hand she flung them at the creature just before it could swipe at her. It cried in anguish and started to turn on her but was suddenly taken out by two bolts to its neck and it finally died. Seeing the one who did it, she found him to be a short and stocky man. Shorter than her in fact. It grew quiet for a moment, relatively speaking, before her hand, the marked one, was seized. She turned to yank it out before she saw it was the mage she defended.

"Quickly! Before more come through!" he yelled before he yanked her hand forward to the rift. A great pressure built where the mark was and suddenly a tendril of yellowish light connected to the rift and her hand with a yank. All this strange magic felt wrong and it shouldn't be mixing with hers! The pressure began to build and felt almost taut. She needed to disconnect this now! His fingers were firm on her wrist but she yanked out of his hand which caused him to stumble back a bit; to which followed a loud snap and crackle the rift closed and disappeared.

With her face guarded, she turned to him, "What did you do?"

Turning to face her, he straightened his back, "I did nothing. The credit is yours." His shoulders stayed slumped, instantly making him seem harmless as he adjusted his staff onto his back. His face was fair besides a nick of a scar just above is right eyebrow, his chin had a dimple in the center. His hair was shaven off. And his ears, pointy. Elf. 

Ash wanted to shake her hand to get the needles to stop, "You mean this thing can help?"

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake - and it seems I was correct." His voice was smooth and deep, but it had an air of arrogance to it.

"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself." Cassandra's voice was filled with reassured hope. "Possibly," the tall elf heeded. He crossed his hands together, "It seems you hold the key to our salvation." Ash merely looked at him with hooded eyes. 'I'm far from anyones salvation, really.' she thought sarcastically.

"Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever," another voice piped in, equally as sarcastic. It was the short and stocky man; he had his light brown hair half up in a pony-tail, his nose had a scar on the bridge which might have been broken at one point, an earring in one ear, a heavy necklace lay on his exposed chest with his exposed chest hair, and he wore a tan leather jacket over his bright red decorated shirt. Along with a huge crossbow on his back he was the spitting image of approachable. "Varric Tethras: rouge, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong." Varric winked at Cassandra to which Ash could feel the sneer she's giving him. Cassandra must know him.

"Are you with the Chantry, or...?" she trailed off in order for him to fill in the gaps. She heard someone chuckle and surprisingly it was the elf, "Was that a serious question?"

Varric answered her anyways, "Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you." That surprised her. "I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary." Cassandra defended her reasoning. "Yet, hear I am! Lucky for you, considering current events." he grumbled the last part.

She's beginning to like Varric the longer he toys with Cassandra. "Well, it's good to meet you you, Varric."

"You might reconsider that stance, in time." the mage off-handedly stated. "Aw," Varric faked being hurt from his jab, "I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles." Ash almost laughed, 'Tell me that's not his name! That's gotta be a nickname!' Cassandra and Varric were still going at it. "Absolutely not," she denied Varric's offer, "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but..."

"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me." He finished with a knowing grin on his face. "We could use the help, Cassandra, with where we're going." Ash offered. Cassandra finally gave up and trudged on ahead, with a disgusted noise in her wake. "My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live." Solas introduced. 

She was confused. "Have we met before, or...?" she questioned.

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'" Varric so graciously translated for her with a grin. She felt herself run cold for a moment, knowing that if it weren't for Solas she would have been as good as dead by now. She turned her body slightly to face him, "You must know a lot about it, then. Name's Ash Forest-Vale, by the way." Varric adjusted his gloves, "Charmed!"

"Unlike you, Solas is an apostate." Cassandra piped in, returning to the threes side.

"Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra," he corrected before facing toward Ash again, "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade. Far beyond the experience of any Circle Mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin." It would appear she found someone thinking on the same plain as her. Even if hers is in the more literal sense than anyone here would believe. As well as her dog. She is really worried what happened to Kane and him. "That's a commendable attitude, considering the dangers an apostate faces in these trifling times." Ash appraised. She's seen what could happen within the year she's resided in this world.

"Merely a sensible one. Though it appears sense is in a short supply right now." Solas said. She shook her head in agreement, "That's an understatement." She caught a faint rumble emit from his chest.  

"Cassandra, you should know," he addressed the seeker, "the magic involved her is unlike any I've seen. Your prisoner is a mage. But I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."  he was certain in his word. 'He must have not seen many mages, then.'  she thought with a snicker. If anyone here were to see what a few mages from her world could do, the templars and mages would have to dearly reassess the true meaning of power. Using a staff is a fucking choice not a necessity.

"Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly," Cassandra took the lead and everyone followed without complaint. 

"Well, Bianca's excited!" Varric spouted near Ash's side.

"Who?" she was confused. Cassandra didn't bother hide her disgust before she said to Ash, "The crossbow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this long and amusing chapter (amusing to me) >:3
> 
> Thx 4 reading~ <3
> 
> Translations:  
> •Nid draaf! Di haal fraan med nii lost nahlii krumon vau!- No shit! It felt like my hand was being chewed off!  
> •sus- bloody

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to get an intro in for our little dovah here~ I am open to criticism and your comments in hopes to bettering my writing. 
> 
> Thanks for reading ;}


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